Cartman Was Right
by Sparbudart
Summary: In a freak accident, which tends to happen a lot in South Park, Bebe and Kyle switch bodies. Chaos ensues. Prepare for friendship, unrequited love, social awkwardness, and literally taking a walk in someone else's shoes. KyBe. You'll like it, trust me.
1. School's Gay

**Author's Note:** After writing a couple of reasonably successful one shots, I decided to try my hand at a full story. It's a bit of a slow beginning, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless.

**Disclaimer: **Sadly, I don't own South Park… le sigh…

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**Cartman Was Right**

**Chapter 1**

**School's Gay**

* * *

They were doing it again, that lovey dovey thing where he would lace her delicate fingers with his and then press his warm lips tenderly to her numbed knuckles to reanimate her hands.

At nine years old, Kyle Broflovski decided that this intimate display of affection was so cute and innocent that it became completely disgusting, and since that point, he had rather lost his appetite for a healthy dose of loving.

"It's a nice day, huh?" he said in attempt to alleviate some of the awkwardness that seemed to appear like a cloud over his head on a daily basis. He pulled out an apple from his coat pocket and bit into it thoughtfully to avoid looking at the couple beside him as they continued batting their eyelashes at each other in a manner worthy of Sebastian the crab when he was giving Ariel lessons on how to kiss a guy.

Stan Marsh grinned at his best friend as the trio crunched through the freshly fallen snow to the only bus stop in South Park. "Are you kidding me? I'm freezing my ass off!" he laughed, cheeks red and lips chapped from the cold Colorado wind, which had blown a grey cloud in front of the sun.

Wendy, who had wrapped her slender arm around Stan's lower back, heartily agreed, using her other hand to still the beret that was threatening to be swept off of her silky hair. The picture was so perfect that it looked unreal. Kyle inwardly rolled his eyes when he again saw her small form covered by one of her boyfriend's heavy sweatshirts. Was that normal? Kyle really didn't fancy the thought of having someone else's smell on him twenty-four seven.

He looked at his wristwatch and groaned inaudibly to himself.

To his dismay, it was again that dreaded time of day. Every day of every year for the last year and a half of high school, ever since Stan and Wendy had finally stabilized their relationship, Wendy had insisted upon stopping by Bebe's house on the way so that the four of them could walk to school together. Kyle didn't trust her for a minute; since he was nine, he had had to endure painful hints from Wendy about a potential relationship between Bebe and himself. Wendy Testaburger was normally an extremely logical and sensible person, but Kyle had to knock off a couple points on her intelligence rating for being so irrational; he got along with Bebe about as well as a rabid mongoose and a cobra in a battle to the death; Bebe was the mongoose, of course.

He gritted his teeth as they trekked up the stone walkway to Bebe's front porch, Wendy in the lead and Kyle lagging behind as far as he could without being suspicious. Stan held his girlfriend's hand sweetly as she reached for the brass knocker.

_Great, she's already knocking on the door…_

Before Kyle could finish a coherent thought, the door to the Stevens' household swung open dramatically with an almighty "bang," and there stood Bebe with a half-eaten apple in her mouth, pulling on her snow boots as she hopped outside on her one free foot. "Hey, guys!" Her golden hair fell elegantly about her thin shoulders as she bounced down the steps of her front porch with much more enthusiasm than any normal person would have on a school day.

Kyle noticed how her sapphire eyes traveled gradually to his hand where he held his own half-eaten apple. _Argh… now she's going to have to say – _

"We're both eating apples today, Kyle!" she exclaimed, taking great joy in pointing out the obvious.

The Jew forced a smile that looked more like a grimace and made Stan raise an eyebrow in his direction. "You all right, dude?"

"Yeah, let's just go," he said, the rest of them following suit.

To avoid any unnecessary conversation, Kyle pulled a book out from his backpack and flipped open to his bookmark, the musty scent of the library wafting up from the page and spiraling its way into his nostrils.

It wasn't as though he really disliked Bebe. That wasn't the case at all. He definitely found her extremely amusing, and he actually did admire her ability to be so outgoing; there was no one at school who wasn't fond of her to some extent. He had just lost his ability to become engaged in a conversation with someone who was naturally so loquacious. He was often afraid of saying something either stupid or unappealing… or a combination of the aforementioned adjectives.

Instead, Kyle was the kid who sat in the library at lunch reading up on his latest topic of interest or flipping through moldy copies of Encyclopedia Britannica when he needed to find something new. Right now, the topic of interest was the French Revolution. He turned a page in _A Tale of Two Cities_ and walked on in silence.

"Are you and Stan going to that dance next week?" Bebe asked her best friend happily, her voice creating a sort of chime in the nippy air.

Wendy merely grinned in a manner that made her look extremely pretty. "Of course we are! Right, Stan?"

Stan blushed and rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. "Oh… well, sure. If you want to, I mean," he replied, trying and failing to play it off as nothing. Wendy laughed. It was a charming little laugh that sounded like twinkling bells; it made Stan fall more in love with her whenever he heard it. Again, Kyle couldn't help but notice a small detail like that and frown upon it in revulsion. "What about you, Bebe?" Stan's plan to get the attention off of himself worked like a charm.

"I was actually thinking about asking Craig today if he wanted to go," she responded with an aura of vengeance dripping from every pore.

Kyle made a face and snapped his book shut. "Don't you think that's a bit harsh? He's Clyde's best friend, you know."

"Well, I don't think I need advice from someone who reads about guillotines on the way to school," she snapped at the Jew, narrowing her eyes. Kyle was a little surprised to learn that she had actually noticed what he was reading and even more surprised to learn that she knew what it was about. "Besides, you don't even know what it's like to be in a relationship one day and then be cheated on the next, kosher boy."

"You're right," he readily agreed. "I don't." He supposed it wasn't worth the trouble of informing her that Craig didn't exactly appear to "play for the right team," so to speak, and with that, Kyle dealt the _coup de grâce _to the conversation by deciding not to say anything, reopening his book instead and burying his nose once again in the eloquence that was Charles Dickens. He ignored Bebe as she pursed her lips in obvious frustration. He half-expected her to retort or scoff or at least say something, but at a warning look from Wendy, she also chose to let it go.

"Wendy, seriously, this weekend we need to go to the mall or something. All this work lately has been killing me," the blonde whined. "I need a break!"

Kyle still didn't understand girls even after being around them for years. He always assumed that "taking a break" meant sitting on one's ass for an entire afternoon with a movie or ten and a shitload of potato chips.

Wendy smiled. "I know… this week has been hell. How about noon on Saturday? We can go look at dresses, or something." Kyle noticed with an unpleasant feeling in the pit of his stomach that Stan's hand was slowly making its way into the back pocket of his girlfriend's jeans. It wasn't obscene by any means, but it was enough to cause him to shiver in discomfort. Was that normal courting behavior? He wondered if it was some sort of sign that he was supposed to walk next to Bebe now.

_Never._

Bebe, apparently, noticed his discomfort. "You need a scarf or something, Kyle?" She asked despite the stiff atmosphere, unwrapping the garment from around her own neck and offering it to him as a means of reconciliation.

Reluctantly, out of fear of starting an explosive argument, Kyle accepted it and wrapped it underneath his chin. He finally became aware of the coldness of his own neck when some of her residual body heat made its way through his skin. "Thanks," he replied awkwardly, glancing down at the soft material draped over his upper body.

"Don't worry, it doesn't make you look like a girl," Bebe said with a hint of a giggle in her musical voice. It was a nice voice; it often reminded him pleasantly of Kreisler's Rondino on a Theme… but he would never say that.

According to the majority of the population, that was not the proper way to woo a girl, nor was it very appealing.

However, Kyle let out a short laugh in spite of himself; it was so like her to point out something like that. But he was relieved that the scarf really was pretty much gender-neutral; it was made simply out of grey wool. "Thanks," he said again, not really sure of how to respond. There was no way he could tell her that what really made him uncomfortable was the fact that he would smell like her by the time the four of them got to class.

--

"Oh yeah? I bet you five billion dollars, you stupid asshole!" Eric Cartman, massive in both appearance and presence, stood on his chair five minutes before the bell rang, going about his usual manipulation duties as if he were king of the world.

Craig flipped off Cartman and shook his head so that the blue drawstrings of his hat swung back and forth over his broad, blue-clad shoulders. "You don't even have _five_ dollars, you retard. Besides, there's no way people can switch bodies, even if they wanted to."

Cartman puffed up unattractively in a manner that was reminiscent of a bullfrog. "Yes there is, you guys! If you bang their heads together and knock them out, then they'll switch bodies!"

"No they won't! Gah! They'll just get a c-concussion! Or cancer!" Tweak gave a violent twitch and spilled his Harbucks coffee all over Craig, who responded by giving him the finger. "Oh, sweet Jesus! I'm sorry!"

"Yeah, I think Tweak's right, fat ass," a nasally voice confirmed. "I'm pretty sure you can't do that." Clyde gave a small sniffle and rubbed his runny nose with the back of his bare hand.

"No he isn't! That twitchy asshole's full of it!" Cartman insisted, ignoring Craig who again responded with his signature obscene hand gesture. "I saw people switching bodies all over the place on that show last night!"

"You mean _Myth Busters_?" Token asked, having just walked into the room. He put his books on his desk. "I watch it all the time… but I'm pretty sure they were faking that one."

"No they weren't! Those guys are legit! Right Kenny?"

Kenny McCormick glanced up from finishing his homework before the bell rang and replied with a shrug and a look through his snorkel parka that clearly said: "I really don't give a rat's ass, and I need to do my homework before I end up like my dad."

Cartman closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, something he had done since he was a child whenever he became extremely miffed. "Kenny… if you agree with me on this just this once, and I win Craig's five billion dollars, I swear to Jesus that I'll buy you a new house with a working shower so that you don't come to school smelling like ass every morning."

Kenny yelled something through his hood that sounded suspiciously like: "Shut up you cock-sucking piece of shit!"

It made Craig and Clyde laugh heartily, and it wasn't long before everyone else joined in obnoxiously.

Cartman floundered for a moment, trying to regain some level of control. "Butters agrees with me! Right, Butters?"

"Well, gee, Eric…" the addressed boy stammered, wringing his hands uncomfortably. "I would agree with you, but my dad says he'll ground me if I ever get tricked by you again."

"God damn it!"

"By George, Eric, I think Butters is right," Pip commented hesitantly, his British accent as obvious as ever. "I'm quite certain that it has been scientifically proven to be impossible."

"Oh, can it, you French piece of crap!"

Mr. Garrison, who had been dozing off at his desk before the bell lifted his head off of his hands. "Shut the hell up, Eric. It's too early for this." This command was met by a handful of stifled snickers from several of the amused onlookers.

"Guys, I'm seriously! Listen to me!" Cartman was quickly becoming a spectacle as the rest of the homeroom class wandered into the classroom still half-asleep. Kyle, Stan, Wendy, and Bebe were among them. "Kahl!" Cartman, yelled, spotting the Jew with his beady little eyes the moment he walked into the rom.

"What do you want, fat ass?"

"_You_ tell these assholes that I'm right!"

Kyle raised an eyebrow; whenever Cartman came to him for help, it wasn't a good sign. "Right about what?" he asked, afraid of where the conversation was heading.

"That people can switch bodies!"

Kyle stood dumbfounded for several seconds. After all these years, was he still really that stupid? "That's retarded, Cartman!" He really was in no mood to deal with the ignorance of his least favorite person in the world.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Kyle heard the bell ring. Within a few minutes, everyone else had found their seats; Stan and Wendy sat next to each other in the front while Bebe made her way over to Craig who was unsuccessfully trying to help Tweek put the lid back on his scorching cup of coffee.

"But, _Kahl_!" the fat boy whined, balling his hands into fists that resembled small bowling balls.

"Get out of the way!" Kyle tried in vain to push past Cartman's wide girth and make his way to his seat. "Move!" It was about as effective as trying to move a house; Cartman was fat, but there was a whole lot of muscle in there somewhere that made it impossible for the slimmer boy to beat him physically.

"Okay, Kahl… you just have to admit that I'm right, and I'll move," he attempted to negotiate while planting his feet a little more firmly into the ground.

"When have you ever been right before?!"

"Hm." Cartman put a finger on his chubby chin and pretended to seriously think about his answer. "There was that one time when I said you could crap out your mouth, and – good Lord – it worked! And there was another time when I said you became a pussy if you didn't eat meat, and then Stan suffered from vaginitis – look at that, Kahl. And there was another time – "

"Shut up, Cartman!" Kyle yelled, trying in vain to get to his seat, which seemed to be a world away. "That's not the point! I _know_ this stupid idea won't work! It's physically impossible! Now move already!"

"Would you care to test that theory, Jew?" He blinked innocently and overdid a smile that was supposed to look sweet.

"No! I wouldn't! Now get the hell outta my way!"

"Eric, sit your fat ass down!" Before Cartman could answer, Mr. Garrison had dragged him by the arm to his desk where he sat down reluctantly in the creaking chair, muttering obscenities under his breath. Kyle took the only other empty desk in the classroom on Eric's right side.

"Sex-changing bastard…"

"Okay, class." Mr. Garrison had resumed his usual position at the front of the room. "We have a lot to learn today, and not a lot of time, so I'm going to take role, and – what, Eric?" he asked, for Cartman's hand had shot up into the air so quickly that Kyle felt a breeze rushing past his left ear.

"Mr. Garrison, I think we should discuss switching bodies with people."

Mr. Garrison wrinkled his brow and paused for a moment before responding to his request. "No, Eric, that's stupid and retarded. Okay, Token? Is Token here?" he inquired, returning to his roll sheet.

Token raised his dark hand, but so did Cartman, practically standing in his seat and looking as though he was about to pop a vein or two; his eyes were practically bulging out of his skull.

"Oh my God…" Kyle put his face in his hand as he tried to ignore the fat boy straining in the seat next to him. School was so gay.

"Eric, put down your god damn hand already!" Mr. Garrison yelled, his bald head glistening unpleasantly in the artificial lighting.

"Mr. Garrison, there is extreme relevance between switching bodies and our classroom curriculum," Cartman said professorially.

"Oh, really? How so?" Mr. Garrison tapped his black shoe rapidly against the floor with impatience.

"Well, take, for example, your sex change operations."

"That's not the same thing at all, Cartman!" Stan countered unexpectedly from his seat before the teacher could offer his own opinion on the matter.

"Yes it is, Stan."

"No it isn't," he replied, always the voice of reason in an ever ignorant world. "Mr. Garrison cut off his penis and turned into a chick! The thing that _you're_ describing is like that thing that happened in _Freaky Friday_!"

Cartman put a hand to his heart and feigned hurt. "Are you calling Disney a liar, Stan?"

"Disney _is _a liar, dumbass!" Kyle interrupted angrily, irked at the fact that his education, already jeopardized from having such an incompetent teacher, was being further impeded.

The fat boy clicked his tongue in disbelief. "Disney's a liar? Would you call Jesus a liar too, Kahl?" He chuckled in an arrogant manner. "Well, you _are_ a Jew, after all," he stated patronizingly.

"That's enough, Eric!"

"But, Mr. Garr – "

"Okay, fatso… you're going to see the school counselor!" Herbert Garrison, in the midst of another mood swing, must've had some extra estrogen in his system since the sex change, but nevertheless, he violently opened his desk and pulled out a stack of red referral notes. "'Name… Eric Cartman. Crime… being a smartass! Punishment…'" he muttered to himself while filling out the form. He tore it off the pad with more force than was necessary and shoved it into Cartman's pudgy hand.

"Fuck!" Cartman yelled loudly, throwing his hat onto the floor and glaring angrily at several people behind him who didn't even bother to hide their laughter.

"Watch your language!" Mr. Garrison put his hands on his hips aggressively. "You, Kyle," he demanded, pointing an accusing finger at the Jewish boy. "Go with him to the office an make sure he doesn't pull anything stupid."

Kyle groaned, slumping in his seat and wishing that he were back home in bed. "But, Mr. Garrison – "

"NOW!" The teacher's face had taken on a rather disturbing puce tint that clashed horribly with his green windbreaker.

Kyle, already angry and uncomfortable, stood up stiffly and followed Cartman into the hall, allowing his boots to make an unnecessarily loud thump every time he took a step; it felt analogous to walking to one's doom.

It was an unjust punishment, he decided. Not only was he forced to miss class, but he was also subjected to being in the presence of the leader of the modern-day Nazi cult for an interminable minute and a half. Mr. Garrison was a dick, Kyle concluded, regardless of his gender.

"Don't be sore, Kahl. Is it just that time of the month?" Cartman jabbed Kyle in the ribs with his referral slip as a means to provoke him as the two boys walked down the hallway. It was empty save for a couple that had snuck out of their respective classes to engage in a lip lock behind a water fountain. Kyle didn't care. They did that every day without reservations.

"Don't push me, fat ass! I'm not in the mood!" He was being completely serious.

"Kahl, this could've been prevented had you simply grown some balls and admitted that I was right." As usual, Cartman's logic made very little sense.

"About what?!"

"About switching bodies. I mean, seriously, grow a pair, Kahl. You even smell like a girl." He pinched his nose as if Kyle was giving off an odor of skunk and rotten cheese in the middle of the battlefield after Antietam.

Kyle blinked, revolted by the implication of that statement; the fat bastard was _smelling_ him now? "You stupid asshole!"

"It's okay if you're menstruating, Kyle… Just let it all out." He snickered as the comment took on a new meaning in his mind. "Let it _all_ out! _Everything_!" He burst into a fit of laughter that was surely loud enough to attract the attention of some of the other teachers.

Feeling the urge to strangle the fatter boy (though admitting it would be difficult to reach all the way around his neck, which was hidden beneath several chins), Kyle shoved him through Mr. Mackey's office door before he did something he would later regret.

"Mmkay," he heard the school counselor drone through the door, the silhouette of his prodigious cranium evident through the glass panel. "Being a smart ass is bad, mmkay. Don't do it."

Kyle spun on his heel as soon as he was sure that Cartman wouldn't be walking back out anytime soon and stomped back to class. He decided to take a trip to the bathroom before being trapped again in a room with a bunch of idiots; school was so super gay, and Cartman was a dipshit.

The loo smelled like piss, as usual, but Kyle walked over to the sink and stared at his reflection in the mildew-covered mirror. He didn't look at all like a girl, he decided, removing his ushanka and glaring at his frizzy excuse for a head of hair. He was fairly masculine looking; he was wiry, but at least he wasn't curvy like Tweek. Maybe that was why Craig had been staring at that poor caffeine-driven boy all of a sudden… No, Kyle wasn't built like Stan, but he definitely looked like a healthy young man. He contented himself by saying internally that he physically resembled Stephan Braun from that German ensemble and felt better about himself. Though, maybe his eyes, in all their startling greenness, _did_ look a bit feminine.

He turned on the rusty faucet and promptly splashed his face with cold water, shuddering as it ran in small icy streams down his neck. That was when he noticed that he was still wearing Bebe's scarf snugly around his windpipe. Remembering what Cartman had said, he raised one end to his nose, hands still dripping with tap water, and inhaled hesitantly against the coarse material. It was an obliging but faint smell of some floral shampoo that made his heart flutter ever so slightly in his chest. He didn't really feel like returning it all of a sudden and pocketed it instead.

Drying his hands on the outside of his coat, Kyle exited the bathroom and proceeded to walk to class, though taking extra care to take smaller steps and drag his feet a little bit as he walked. There was no real reason for him to be eager to get back to Mr. Garrison's lecture about Brad, Angelina, and the twelve kids they had decided to adopt in the last year.

It happened so fast that the Jewish boy didn't even have time to react. As soon as he had turned the corner, a blonde blur came dashing from the other direction with the force of a small herd. He heard a small shout of surprise before he collided with Bebe, hitting his unfortunate skull somewhere on her person and falling limp against the cool tile floor.

Somewhere around him he heard several voices.

He heard the opening and slamming of classroom doors and then nothing more as he slipped into blissful oblivion.

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**Author's Note: **So… what did you guys think? Did it at least entertain you all a little bit? I hope it has at least made you excited to read more! Please review! It would make me one happy camper! :D I'll do my best to update this as often as I can, but it'll be difficult with seven honors classes… Ugh. So, look forward to the next update! I can already tell that I'm going to have a lot of fun writing this!

Sorry for you guys who didn't understand some of the references I made in this chapter. There were several musical allusions in this; I don't know if you can tell, but I'm a total music nut. If you're interested at all in Kreisler or Stephan Braun (the ensemble's name is "Deep Strings," by the way), try looking up the Rondino on a Theme and the remake of Norah Jones's "Don't Know Why" on youtube – the man has got some amazing skill with a cello. xD


	2. How it Is

**Author's Note:** Sigh… I honestly wish that I had all day to write fan fiction. Nothing's more satisfying than being the master of your own plot. LoL Well, this was an unusually fast update. I hope you enjoy this chapter!

**Disclaimer:** Trey Parker and Matt Stone own this show… I surely don't.

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**Cartman Was Right**

**Chapter 2**

**How it Is**

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The first thing Kyle felt when he woke up was a dull throbbing somewhere in the middle of his forehead. He opened his eyes and then shut them a split second later as his nerves slowly began reacting to the overwhelming pain echoing inside his skull.

_What the hell just happened?_ He thought to himself, but it quickly became too agonizing to use his brain.

"Jesus, dude…" a voice said, sounding distant and distorted as if it was coming from another world galaxies away.

_Stan? Is that you?_

"I think she's waking up." It was Wendy's voice that time that made it's way through his hazy mind like a bird through the fog. With a slight groan, Kyle cracked open an eyelid and realized that Bebe must've been somewhere in the room with him too. Stan Marsh suddenly appeared in his peripheral vision, looking like a grinning star falling from the ceiling.

"Hey! You're awake!"

"What happened?" Kyle asked, his throat uncomfortably scratchy and dry. He coughed a little to get his voice back to normal, clapping a hand to his forehead and finally becoming aware of the quilt that had been wrapped around him like a cocoon.

"Oh, thank goodness you're okay!" Wendy had appeared at his bedside with a glass of water, which he gulped down gratefully, savoring every sweet drop as it ran down his throat. "You've been out for nearly four hours!"

"Four hours?" he repeated croakily in disbelief, just barely beginning to take in his surroundings and not recognizing them as those of his own bedroom. He had no idea where the hell he was.

"Yeah, you two ran into each other headlong and were knocked unconscious." Stan smacked his hands together forcefully to demonstrate as he said this, and it made Kyle wince. "You guys must have really thick skulls." It was so typical of Stan to turn something like that into a joke, but Kyle wasn't really in the mood to be laughed at. His head felt like someone was using a jackhammer to split his brain in half.

"Shit, dude…" he murmured, massaging his eyelids with his fingertips. "I feel like I was hit by a truck…"

"I'm not surprised, actually," Wendy said, stroking his hair in a manner that reminded him of his own overprotective mother.

"Have you guys been here the whole time?" He was touched by his friends' concern for his well being.

"Oh, well… kinda," Kyle noticed that Wendy looked as though she had just recovered from a long cry and fidgeted a little as she said this. "I mean, we were both really worried!" She had taken a knee near his bedside and rested her palm somewhere on his middle on top of the warm blanket.

"It's not like I'm dying or anything." Kyle patted her hand with his, an action that caused the blanket to slip down past his shoulders. What he unearthed was enough to make the boy freeze in shock.

Protruding just slightly from beneath a red-knit sweater were two lumps that looked suspiciously like…

"Boobs?!" His hands flung themselves immediately to the site of interest just to feel if they really existed. Just as soon as he had made contact with the soft flesh, covered by what he suspected was a bra, he withdrew his hands as though he had just touched a scorching stove. _These aren't mine…_

"Hey… are you all right?" Stan's face had once again swam into focus beside Wendy, and he knelt down beside her. Kyle pulled the blankets up to his chin in fright and stared at the two of his friends with wide eyes without answering his best friend's question.

_These are so not mine…_

"Are you okay?"

He wasn't able to react with a coherent thought. It was as though a small alarm had gone off in the back of his brain, telling him ad nauseum: _This is not right… This is so not right…_

"W-What the hell happened to me?" he asked himself shakily in a voice that did not sound like his own. He coughed, but he had an ominous feeling that it wasn't going to help his case.

Wendy confirmed his worst fear. "Bebe, what's wrong?"

"'Bebe'?" he repeated blankly, pulling the blankets away from his body for the second time. "What are you talking about, I'm – " But he caught a glimpse of pink fingertips staring at him from his nail beds and beneath them the breasts that seemed to be mocking him in all their supple roundness. Suddenly, he was able to put two and two together. "Holy shit…"

Before Stan or Wendy could force him to lie back down, Kyle had already sprinted to the nearest bathroom down the hall and switched on the light. Bebe blinked back at him through the mirror. He touched his nose, and the reflection did the same. He opened his mouth.

So did Bebe.

He let out a scream that was shrill and high-pitched and immediately covered his mouth with his hands, eyes wide in horror. He dashed out of the bathroom to the front door as fast as a girl could run.

"Hey! What are you doing?" Stan had grabbed the back of his collar and forced him to pause to take a moment and recover; his windpipe – or, _her_ windpipe – had been thoroughly abused. He skidded to a halt, noticing unpleasantly that Stan was now a full head taller than him; he could practically see up his nose.

"Stan, I need to – "

"No," he interrupted, maintaining a strong hold on his friend's upper arm much in a way a parent would hold onto a screaming child. "You need to lay down."

Kyle was seriously considering telling Stan that he was just trapped in a girl's body but decided against it when he realized how ridiculous it sounded. He struggled against the other boy, but his girl body was no match for his best friend. "God damn it!" And without a warning, he was flung over Stan's shoulder and carried back to the sofa.

"Sta-an," Wendy said, somehow managing to do that thing she always did, where she split his name into two syllables. "I don't think swinging her around like that is going to help!" But Stan had already laid Kyle down gently onto the sofa, patting her on the head in a parent-like manner that made the afflicted growl like a caged animal.

"Just chill out for a second," Stan requested with a hint of a baritone laugh in his voice, tucking Kyle in more snugly with the blanket than he had the first time; it practically bound his hands to his sides. To Kyle's dismay, his best friend took a seat right on his feet, preventing any further movement whatsoever. Kyle decided that his best friend would definitely make a bad parent; he would have to remember to tell Wendy about that later. "I think hitting your head made you get a little weird." Stan moved his pointer finger in a backwards motion near the side of his head.

"Yes, Stan. You're right. It did. Now get _off_!" He struggled to free his trapped appendages from the overwhelming weight but was unsuccessful.

"Stan, do you want to help me make some tea for Bebe?" Wendy called from the kitchen, putting water into an iron kettle and trying to figure out how to turn on the stove.

"Sure, Wendy," he answered before turning to Kyle. "Just sit here for a few minutes, yeah? Try to relax a little. She's been really worried about you." He jerked his head in his girlfriend's direction.

"Fine," he snapped, reluctantly settling back into his pillow to show Stan that he wasn't planning on going anywhere. In the back of his mind, he became a bit miffed with the knowledge that both of them had chosen to sit at Bebe's house rather than at his own.

However, as soon as Stan left the bedside, Kyle freed himself from the mummy wrappings that were his blanket and sprung up yet again. He bolted before either Wendy or her boyfriend realized what was happening.

"Bebe, what're you – "

"You guys, listen to me! Where's Bebe?" he asked urgently, stopping when he saw the identical confused look on his friends' faces. "I mean, where am I?! Er… where's Kyle's body?!" he asked, still panicked when he heard Bebe's voice coming out of his (or her) mouth and unaware of he fact that he probably sounded like someone who had taken one too many puffs on the magic dragon after escaping from the South Park Mental Institution.

"He's probably at his house… but I really think you should rest for just a second."

"No time!" And without further explanation, Kyle fumbled with the latch on the front door, flung it open, and departed down the street with only one thought: _find Bebe._

Ignoring the sudden realization that he had forgotten a jacket back at Bebe's house, Kyle walked as fast as he could (which was not very fast at all due to his shorter girl legs) through the familiar streets of South Park, only this time viewing it from a height of five foot four.

To his extreme displeasure, another unpleasant thought crossed his mind as he made his way swiftly past the front of the high school: Cartman was totally and completely right… again.

"God _damn_ it!"

Suddenly, he was able to make out a shape in the distance running madly in his direction with the force of a bull. He recognized the green hat as his own as the form got closer to him. The two kids stopped in front of each other, looked the other up and down, and then yelled out in disbelief at the same time. Then, they both looked down at their current bodies and practically burst into tears.

"Jesus Christ, dude! I'm a girl!" Kyle exclaimed, his hands again flying automatically to the front of his shirt and fondling the structures beneath it in disgusted amazement. "I'm a fucking girl!"

"This… is… not… _happening_!" Bebe moaned, pulling down on the flaps of Kyle's ushanka in frustration. "And stop touching those!" she demanded, glaring at her original body with spite.

"What the hell happened to us?!" Kyle asked angrily, removing his hands from his chest and fisting them at his sides. "What did you do this time?!"

"Why do you assume it's _my_ fault?!"

"It sure as hell wasn't me!" Panic and confusion had clearly made both of them unable to access the logic centers of their brains.

"We were at school," Bebe responded frantically, closing her eyes tightly and trying to recall the memory from somewhere in the depths of her brain. "And I remember running down the hallway…"

"What in the world were you doing running around like a maniac?!"

"I was just asking Craig if he wanted to go to the dance!" she said, trying to justify her actions. "And… and all of a sudden, Tweek went all psycho-bitch, threatening to spill coffee all over me if I ever went near Craig again! You know, I'm beginning to think that they're gay for each other."

"Oh, really? You're _just _noticing this now?!"

"What's that supposed to mean?! Are you calling me dumb?!" she screeched, which sounded extremely strange coming from a boy's body.

"I guess it's implied, yes. I mean, you _are_ blond." It wasn't one of his more calculated comebacks.

"Technically, _you're_ the blond one, Jew boy! This sucks so hard. Of all the people in the world, I just _had_ to switch bodies with you!"

Kyle decided to take the mature route and did not retort with an angry comeback, though there were a few he could have used. "Okay, okay," he reasoned, hands held out in front of him to steady his breathing and his outrage. "Just shut up for a second, and let me think. Fighting isn't going to get us anywhere."

Bebe, however, had no intention of following suit. "Oh, stop it, Kyle. Stop playing the mediator! You know damn well that you're just as pissed off as I am!" She looked positively livid.

"I know!" he ground out in response. "But I don't want to stay like this forever, so I'm at least _trying_ to come up with a solution!" Honestly, Wendy never seemed to be this difficult!

"I want my own body back! I want it back right now!" Bebe yelled.

It was the strangest sensation Kyle had ever experienced. There he was, standing in front of himself and… watching _himself _throw a temper tantrum. It was like something out of _The Twilight Zone_. He tried and failed to get her to calm down before someone he knew walked by and saw his body jumping around and acting like a girl.

"You didn't tell anyone about this, did you?" he asked, dreading her answer.

"No! I got so freaked out that I bolted without thinking!"

"Okay… that's good." While he tried to get his voice to calm down, he could still feel his heart pounding furiously against his rib cage.

"That is _not_ good! I'm a freakin' _guy_!" With that she proceeded to burst into loud and uncontrollable tears.

Kyle looked on in horror. There was no way he'd live it down if anyone he knew happened to walk by. "Let's get out of the street, at least!" he hissed as a car drove past. "C'mon, we're going back to my house." And with that, he dragged Bebe behind him back to the Broflovski residence. "Mom, I'm home!" he called reflexively after the two of them entered the house and removed their shoes. His own mother appeared from an adjoining room and gave him a weird look; he thought about how weird it would be to have some strange girl calling her "Mom."

The two of them froze when they realized the mistake, and then Kyle nudged his body with a rather rough elbow to the gut.

"Mom," Bebe began, sniffling and using her sleeve to wipe away the last of her tears. "Um… hi?" She gave a little awkward wave.

"Hi, Bubby," Sheila smiled and gave her "son" a kiss on the forehead. "Your father and I got really worried when you ran out of the house like that! Where on Earth did you run off to?!" Kyle closed his eyes and hoped that Bebe wouldn't laugh or say something rude to his mother.

"Oh, _Mom_… I just went to go find… stuff…" she answered lamely. Kyle bit his tongue; there was no way he'd ever get away with an excuse as unconvincing as that in a million years.

"And who's this?" Mrs. Broflovski asked accusingly, looking pointedly at Kyle, who she presumed to be Bebe. It was as if she had a female radar hidden underneath the beehive that she called her hair, and it was probably going haywire.

"Oh, this is Bebe," Bebe answered confidently with a bright smile. "She's pretty and funny… and she's _much_ smarter than I am… _Mom_!" Kyle shot her a glare that promised something unpleasant like a kick to the shin or a slap on the face… if it wasn't _his_ face, that is.

"No, I'm not, Mrs. Broflovski," he countered. "Kyle's the smartest person I've ever met! He's just so nice that he _pretends_ I'm smart. That's how wonderful he is!"

"Oh, Bebe," Bebe laughed, still able to make her voice sound like music despite the switch in genders. "Don't be so modest. I wish I could be as smart as you… or at least half as good-looking!"

"That's nice sweetie," his mom picked up the laundry basket at the corner of the hallway and walked off, leaving the two teenagers to glare daggers at each other. "I have such a strange son…" she muttered to herself.

As soon as she was out of earshot, Kyle rounded on Bebe. "Real mature," he hissed angrily, feeling as though he could pound her into the ground, even though she was currently six inches taller than he was.

Bebe put her hands on her hips, causing one of them to jut out to one side in an extremely girly fashion. "I didn't make you reply, Kyle."

He ignored her. "You have to stop doing that!"

"Doing what?"

"You can't keep putting my hands on my hips like that! It looks really _really_ gay!" He motioned for her to lower her voice. "Guys don't do that, all right?"

She responded with a scoff. "As long as I'm in this body, I'll put my hands wherever the hell I want to!"

"Just c'mon." Kyle muttered and headed up the staircase without a backward glance.

"Where are you going, Broflovski?!" But she obediently followed her own body up to Kyle's bedroom, snapping at Ike as she ran past him. Bebe rounded on Kyle as soon as the door was closed. "Well now what do we do, genius?!"

"Bebe, first of all, don't talk to my brother like that! He thinks you're me! You have to be nice to him!"

Bebe rolled her eyes. "Fine, fine." She sat down on Kyle's bed and fell backwards against the mattress, allowing her eyelids to slide shut. "What do we do?" she asked, sounding so lost and pathetic that Kyle couldn't help but feel a little bit sympathetic.

He sat down next to his own body, hesitating before giving it a comforting pat on the shoulder. It was awkward, to say the least, to be comforting himself. "I'm sure I'll think of something…"

She just groaned and closed her eyes. "I hope so…"

Kyle resumed standing and took up an impatient pacing around the room. "Okay… basically we just have to be each other for a while until I can come up with a solution."

"You mean we can't even tell anyone?!" The two of them both knew that Bebe was a horrible secret-keeper.

"Do you honestly think that any sane person would believe us anyway?" he asked in exasperation. He could imagine how his mom would react; he'd surely be institutionalized for even suggesting that he was really trapped in a girl's body.

"Okay, you're right…" Bebe sighed in resignation.

"Besides, that would mean Cartman would know he was right about this whole damn thing."

"Yeah, so?"

"'So'?" he repeated incredulously. "He'd probably try to force me to suck his balls or something."

"Who cares?"

"I care, dude! I don't want to suck Cartman's balls!"

Bebe rolled her eyes. "God, you guys are so stupid."

Kyle had to struggle to refrain from yelling at her. "Just… let me tell you about myself so that you can act like me."

Bebe laughed. "I already know how to be you." She grabbed a dictionary from a nearby bookshelf and cracked it open, putting it about a centimeter away from the tip of her nose. "Look at me! I'm Kyle! I like to read and ignore everyone who tries to talk to me because I'm such a know-it-all!"

"Well it's even easier to be you!" Kyle retorted, having gone red in the face. "I'll just walk around and flirt with anything that has a pulse! _Ooh, Craig, Craig, help me, Craig! I just broke a nail_!" he whined in a cruel but somewhat accurate representation of his female counterpart, flapping his hands in a way that made him feel extremely gay.

"I do _not_ talk like that!"

"Well would you stop picking fights already?! I don't like you, and you don't like me, but at least I'm trying to cooperate with you!"

Bebe hung her head a little in shame. "Okay…"

"Right… well, the most obvious thing I can think of to say is that I'm a Jew, so _you_ have to pretend you're a Jew."

"What?"

"I'm serious. You can't make or laugh at any Jew jokes, and you can't eat any ham or – "

"No ham?!" Bebe yelled in outrage. It was so loud that Kyle thought he felt his brain shake. God, she was so volatile.

"Yeah, Jews don't eat ham, Bebe. Get used to it." Without warning she dropped to her hands and knees and began crawling around the bedroom floor. "Now what're you doing?"

"Where's the damn fortune cookie?"

"What fortune cookie?" Kyle asked, puzzled. Here they were talking about ham, and she just had to involve Chinese-American comestibles.

"You know how you guys were talking about _Freaky Friday_ yesterday?" She continued when he gave her a nod. "Well, I don't expect that you've seen the movie, but the mom and the daughter eat a fortune cookie, and then they switch bodies. But the fortune has instructions on how to switch back." Kyle had difficulty understanding the last part, as she had gone to look under his bed.

"There's only one problem: we don't have any fortune cookies!" he yelled. "Why don't we just… try to run into each other again?"

"They did that in the movie… It didn't work."

"This isn't a movie, it's our lives, okay? Look, it'll probably hurt like hell, but it's worth a shot." He went to one end of his bedroom. "Okay, go stand over there," he said, motioning to the opposite side of the room. "Ready?" Bebe nodded. "Go!" Kyle yelled.

The two of them sprinted toward each other and met in the middle with a deafening crash, landing heavily on the floor like two sacks of potatoes.

"Ow…" Bebe moaned, closing her eyes. "That was really stupid… I told you it wouldn't work. I _told_ you…"

All of a sudden, the door flew open to reveal Kyle's dad wearing a look of concern for his eldest son. "Is everything okay? I heard a crash." He glanced over the two of them lying on the floor, dazed and looking blearily up at the ceiling. "Should I ask what you two were doing up here?" Gerald Broflovski put his hands on his hips and frowned.

"No, Dad," Kyle said before he could stop himself. "We're fine, you can leave." That earned the Jewish boy a raised eyebrow from his father, but the request was met, and the door was shut.

The two of them helped each other up. Bebe glared at Kyle, who was trying to get his new hair out of his face. "Great, now your dad probably thinks I'm some sort of hyper bitch or something."

"As if you even care."

"Good point."

"Now… okay, tell me about yourself. Or, your daily schedule or something. I don't want your family to think you suddenly got more retarded or something."

That earned him a glare. "Just remember to get up at six every morning and take enough time to – "

"Six?! I don't get up until seven!"

" – Do my hair and stuff," she continued, pretending that she had not just been interrupted. "Oh, and I never wear jeans on Mondays."

"You expect me to remember that?"

"The good news is, you can eat all the ham you want!" she smiled at him sarcastically and gave him an overenthusiastic "thumbs up."

"Fine," he grumbled. "Now I guess we should actually practice being each other."

Bebe consented, and the two of them spent the next hour learning how to be the other one. It took a while for Kyle to get used to the concept of actually picking up his feet when he walked, and Bebe had the same issue with walking with too much of a bounce in each step, but they eventually worked out all the kinks. Soon enough, they were able to act like each other well enough to fool Ike, who had walked past the room again to talk to his brother; Bebe successfully treated him with a decent degree of brotherly affection.

"Right, okay!" Bebe said an hour later with an air of confidence radiating from her person. "I think we can actually do this!"

"See? I told you it wouldn't be that difficult." Kyle didn't even bother trying to suppress the small grin that was tugging at the corners of his mouth as he pictured her smile underneath his physical exterior.

Suddenly Bebe's face fell visibly and turned into a mask of utter despair as she mulled over something disturbing in her mind. Something in her eyes frightened him slightly. "Kyle?" she asked.

"What?"

"What are we going to do about _showering_?"

"… Shit."

* * *

**Author's Note: **Haha, I'd have to say that the ending even made me laugh at my own story. xD Did you guys like it? I think it'll get funnier in the future… I've got this whole thing already outlined in my mind. I'm totally having fun writing all of this stuff! I hope you all enjoy reading it!

I know I could always address reviews with personal messages, but I kinda like doing it this way.

**XxLoveStanxX **I'm so glad you liked it! I love reading your reviews, LoL.

**OrangeClock** (wherever you are), I'm sorry that you find my story so humiliatingly distasteful, and I'm sorry that you were so perturbed by my atrocious use of the English language… But I think you should at least take comfort in knowing that you never have to read this horrible excuse for a story ever again. Good luck with that flaming thing you do; you seem to be turning it into an art. :)


	3. Facing the Masses

**Author's Note:** Hey, guys! I'm glad you all decided to continue reading this. There's a bit of a surprise in this reading… hope you all are very… _startled_, LoL.

**Disclaimer:** Let's just not talk about what I don't own…

* * *

**Cartman Was Right**

**Chapter 3**

**Facing the Masses**

* * *

Bebe was well-aware of the fact that Kyle told her specifically not to take a shower that night and to just sleep on it until they were both able to gather their bearings, but when she realized that she would still be wearing the same underwear the next morning, the girl inside her couldn't cope. She had tossed and turned for several hours, finding it difficult to get into a position that was comfortable, and she was unable to sleep in her usual fetal position due to the sudden addition of a foreign piece of male anatomy.

Speaking of anatomy…

She and Kyle had been presented with another silly – albeit awkward – problem earlier in the day: the issue of using the toilet. The two of them had waited until the rest of the Broflovski's were sitting snugly on the couch in the living room and watching _The Adams Family_ before addressing it. In the most uncomfortable, most compromising, situation of their young lives, Kyle was forced to assist Bebe to relieve his own body while she closed her eyes and blushed the entire time. If it was possible, the whole event got even more awkward when Bebe had to put one of Ike's diapers on her own body so that Kyle could ease some of the pressure in his bladder.

It was the horrifying and disturbing memory of such an event that had Bebe out of bed at two in the morning to wash her newly acquired Jewfro in the sink with dish soap and an old sponge that had been sitting under the sink for Lord knows how long.

"Kyle, sweetie, what on Earth are you doing?"

Bebe nearly face-faulted into the porcelain bowl when she heard a New Yorker accent coming from the doorway to the bathroom. Turning her head ninety degrees and struggling to see through the water in her eyes, she was able to make out the outline of Kyle's mother standing with its hands on its hips. "Uh…" she managed intelligently, blinking to clear her vision.

"Bubby, it's two in the morning. What are you doing up?"

Bebe was about to respond with the same exact question. Did normal parents wander the halls in the middle of the night like that? That was plain creepy… "I just couldn't sleep," she said, fumbling around blindly for the towel she had grabbed for drying off afterwards.

However, Sheila Broflovski had already retrieved it with a wide yawn and began to dry off Bebe's head, rubbing her temples and ears gently with the terry cloth in a way only a competent mother could do. When she had saved the hair follicles from the majority of the moisture, she gave her "son" a kiss on the forehead. "You need to go to sleep," and she left Bebe standing blankly in the bathroom with the faucet still running.

That was the moment Bebe Stevens decided that she liked Kyle Broflovski's mother.

--

With her new guy legs, Bebe was able to sprint to school almost twice as fast as she normally would have been able to. However, as she skidded to a halt in front of Mr. Garrison's homeroom class, the bell echoed somewhere in the deserted hallway, and Kyle Broflovski just got his first tardy.

"Uh oh! Jew boy's late!" Cartman let out a hearty chuckle as the body of the smaller boy flew through the door as though it were being chased by rabid wolves.

"Shut up, fat ass!" Bebe retorted, accurately acting out her role for once.

"Ay!"

"Sit down and shut up, Eric." Mr. Garrison missed the middle finger aimed at his back, as he had turned to write something on the chalkboard.

Bebe walked to her seat grinning sheepishly and gave a hesitant wave to Kyle fuming in the front row with his arms crossed deftly. Ignoring Stan, who tried to wave her over, Bebe took the closest possible seat next to Kyle, which meant that Clyde was between them.

"Why're you so late?" Kyle whispered to her angrily, his eyes glinting dangerously and his upper body leaning across Clyde, who didn't seem to mind in the slightest.

She looked at him helplessly as Mr. Garrison proceeded to take roll. "There wasn't enough time to get ready! I didn't know your alarm clock was set for seven!" she hissed.

"What's the big deal? You wake up, get dressed, eat, and leave. I don't see the problem."

Before Bebe could retort, however, she was silenced by a moody Mr. Garrison and a support room threat. She shot an annoyed glance at her body, which was clad in gym shorts and a sweatshirt, and nearly flipped her lid when she saw what Kyle had done to her hair. He'd pulled it into a ponytail but had neglected to smooth out any of the bumps on the top of her head, and he had added the cherry on top of the disaster by tying it off with a rubber band. To her complete distress, her bare legs were attracting the attention of every heterosexual male in the classroom; legs didn't often make an appearance in snowy Colorado.

Scoffing girlishly and ignoring several weird stares, Bebe whipped out a pen and scribbled something on a piece of lose-leaf binder paper. She jabbed Clyde in the ribs with her writing utensil and motioned for him to pass the note to Kyle.

Puzzled, Kyle grabbed the paper, unfolded it, and read in the girly handwriting: _What did you do to my hair?!_

He looked at her is disbelief and scribbled something on the paper, kicking Clyde under the table to get him to pass it back to Bebe.

_I fixed it._

She had to bite her tongue to stop from yelling at him as Kyle disguised his laugh as a cough. Ignoring her, the Jew set to work on one of the assignments Mr. Garrison had written up on the board ("briefly summarize the meaning of life in your own words"). He hoped she wouldn't do anything embarrassing that would make everyone think he was gayer than they already thought he was; his lack of girlfriends over the years had seemed to capture everyone's undivided attention recently. He had just finished writing his first sentence when another note was shoved unexpectedly under his nose.

Kyle's eye bugged out under his long and delicate eyelashes as he read the untidy scrawl. He'd assumed the note was from Bebe, but upon closer inspection he realized that there weren't quite enough swirls on the y's and too many of the i's had not been dotted with little hearts. That was when he looked to his right to find Clyde running his hands through his hair and grinning cheekily.

Mr. Garrison's class had just calmed down enough for him to finish taking role when Kyle stood up, the metal legs of his chair scraping unpleasantly against the linoleum flooring. "Clyde!" he yelled, pointing an accusing finger at the keeper of that name. "What in the _hell_ do you think you're doing!? I'm straight, God damn it!"

The chatter stopped and the room went so silent for a moment that one could have heard a pin drop.

"Bebe," Mr. Garrison began. "Is there a problem?"

But before Kyle could answer, his head spun around as he saw his own body rise out of its seat. "No, Mr. Garrison, everything's fine. Ky – _Bebe _was just – "

"I wasn't talking to you, Kyle! Sit down!" The high school teacher was clearly going through another one of his frequent mood swings. "Bebe!" he addressed again. "If there really is a problem, you can just come to the front of the room and tell the whole class about whatever it is that is obviously more important to you than my lecture!"

Kyle could feel steam coming out of his ears as he felt his face heat up to about one million degrees. "But – "

"Now! Up front, missy!"

Kyle felt like he had just been sent to _La Guillotine_, the sharp, newly born female that he had read about last night in Dickens' novel. With a grimace, he walked to the front of the room and tried to pretend that it was merely show-and-tell and not something that would bring upon waves of torment for decades to come.

At this point, it was so silent that even the crickets had stopped chirping.

"'Bebe,'" he read off the paper, his voice, high-pitched as it was, hitching ever so slightly; he had to cough to clear his voice box. "'Seeing as how it's almost Thanksgiving and all…'" He made a face before continuing. "'How about I come over to your house today and stuff _your_ Thanksgiving turkey?'"

The room burst into a fit of giggles, and several people high-fived Clyde on his supposed genius. To nobody's surprise, Wendy did her best to silence those around her and defend her best friend. However, no one was expecting what happened next.

In two strides, Bebe, who the class assumed was really Kyle, had marched straight over to Clyde and had socked him so hard in his red-clad stomach that he had trouble catching his breath. When he was doubled over on all fours, Bebe gave him several more swift kicks to the gut.

"Don't… you… ever… _ever_… say… that… again… you _asshole_!" she ground out through gritted teeth, saying each word as she landed a hit.

"Okay, class, get back to your seats!" Mr. Garrison demanded in vain, as the entire room had formed a circle of onlookers from which to see the tussle between Clyde and Kyle more clearly.

It took both Stan and Kyle (who everyone thought to be Bebe) to pull her off of Clyde, who was writhing in pain after each blow. "You _bitch_!" Bebe yelled, struggling in vain against the other two as they grabbed her under the elbows and pulled her away. "I'll _kill_ you!"

"Dude!" Kyle cried, eyes wide with worry as he watched Clyde struggle to regain his composure. "You're going to kill him!"

"Seriously, Kyle!" Stan exclaimed, noticing the way his best friend's chest was still rising and falling rather heavily after experiencing such an adrenaline rush. "What the hell are you doing?"

She ripped herself free from his grip. "Back off, Stan!" she replied curtly before rounding on Kyle with fire in her eyes; he took a few steps back out of fear of being attacked himself. "And you! Why are you defending him?!"

"I… I just…" Kyle fumbled like a fish out of water.

"He's a liar, _and_ he's a cheater! I told you this already!"

A loud "ooh" came up from the crowd of onlookers.

"This rules," the nasally voice of Craig said amidst all the murmuring. He nudged Tweek with an elbow and smirked.

At the same time, Clyde had stood up and glared Bebe in the eyes. "What the hell, Kyle? It's not like she's _yours_ or anything; she's fair game to any of us."

Bebe very nearly laughed at the irony of that statement but settled for a quick twitch of the mouth instead. "How _dare_ you treat me – _her _– like a piece of meat, asshole?! All you think about is getting into peoples' pants. For your information, Harris," she said, using Clyde's surname to show that she was in no mood to get friendly again. "She _is_ mine!" With that said, Bebe grabbed onto the upper arm of her own body to prove her point.

Wendy gasped and put her hand to her mouth. She whispered something to Stan that made him roll his eyes.

"Kyle!" Mr. Garrison yelled to quiet down the entire classroom, which had again been subjected to another angry round of whispering. "You're going to support room, mister!"

Ten minutes later, Bebe was outside of the dreaded room number thirteen with a red slip clenched in her hand. Kyle would probably kill her when she got out.

--

"No, dude… I seriously thought he was gay," Jason held Jimmy's books for him as he hobbled through the doorway after the dismissal bell rang.

"I guess we were w-w-w-wrong, then. Because that guy obviously has it b-b-bad for B-Bebe."

"Timmah!" Timmy agreed.

Kyle stomped through the halls with a walk that could shame Jurassic Park's tyrannosaurus rex. He snapped at Red and Heidi, two girls whom he already disliked immensely, when they congratulated him and stood resolutely next to Stan and Wendy. "Hi," he greeted stiffly, slouching in a rather manly fashion against the nearest faded wall.

They both gave him that same strange look again. "Is everything okay, Bebe?" Wendy asked, putting a hand on her best friend's back in concern.

"It's fantastic," he replied sarcastically, folding the grey arms of his sweatshirt across his newly acquired chest.

"I'm glad that you and Kyle are together now… but you really need to get him to lighten up a bit…"

"We _aren't_ together."

Stan raised an eyebrow in disbelief. "That's not the impression _we_ got."

"Yeah, well – "

"You couldn't even tell _me_ that you guys were a thing?" Wendy interrupted, looking genuinely hurt as she said this, and Kyle felt a pang in his chest as he met her dejected brown eyes.

"Wendy – " he began, but he was grabbed by the elbow by a forceful hand and then dragged away from the perfect couple before he could react. What in the world were people doing grabbing him all the time? He turned around to give his attacker a piece of his mind, but rethought it after rotating his head ninety degrees. "What the… _Cartman_?!" he spat in disgust as he saw who it was who had him in a vice grip; once glance at the giant mass of red was enough for anyone to identify him as the plague of the school. Kyle tried to dig his heels into the floor, but he only slipped and had to struggle to regain his balance, only succeeding in making it easier for Cartman to pull him along. "Where the hell are we going, fatass?!" Cartman didn't respond or acknowledge him in any way. "Cartman!" he demanded again, seeing with horror that the fat boy was leading him to an empty broom cupboard.

One thought entered his mind at this time: _Rape!_ And then: _No fucking _way_ am I going to lose my virginity to a guy!_

Kyle was shoved forcefully in through the small opening, clouds of debris meeting his nostrils with the musty scent of toilet bowel cleaner and old towels. Cartman shut the door loudly before standing to survey the Jew with his piggy eyes. Meanwhile, Kyle was trying to think up a way to move around Cartman's massive girth without being too obvious. Why was it that Cartman always stood between him and his way out? The bastard was far too fat for his own good…

Kyle flinched when he saw the overweight German narrow his eyes, but the larger boy made no attempts at an advance. The single dusty light bulb swung back and forth on a rusty chain dangling from the ceiling. "You think you're really fucking clever, don't you, bitch." It wasn't a question.

"What in the world are you talking about?"

"You know God damn well what I'm talking about." His voice was dripping with something unpleasantly sour, something like old rancid milk that had been left in the fridge a month after its expiration date.

"No…" Kyle answered, an ominous sense of foreboding coming over him as he watched the disturbed dust resettle itself on the floor. "I really don't." Was Cartman honestly that stupid?

"Look," Cartman said patronizingly, as if he were talking to a five-year-old. "I don't give a shit about your love life… but find your own fucking Jew!"

When the impact of his words hit Kyle, he felt his face turning red in a mixture of fury and embarrassment. "_Your_ Jew? What the hell does that mean!?" His voice had attained an octave that was previously impossible for him to reach.

"Exactly what you think it does." He took several steps toward his prey until they were literally nose-to-nose; Kyle was too disturbed to move, as he could feel his most hated rival's breath on his eyelids. "I haven't worked this long for nothing, Stevens. Broflovski's _my_ bitch; go find your own."

Kyle scrunched up his face in anger and mustered up enough force to shove Cartman in the chest and send him staggering back several steps; at least he was able to breathe properly again.

The Jew let out a laugh that sounded more like a hollow bark. Who would've thought that the fat, racist, sexist, _Jew_-hating – emphasis on "Jew" – asshole would be, "A fag? _You're _a fag, Cartman?!"

"I am _not_ a fag!"

"You just said that you practically want to bone m – I mean, Kyle!" If there was one thing in the world that could be more degrading than being trapped in a girl's body, this had to take the cake.

"Shut your mouth, bitch!" Cartman spat with resentment. "If you tell anyone… _anyone_ about this… I swear to God I will rip your balls off!"

"Girls don't have balls, you fat piece of crap! God! You are so retarded!"

"Skank!" the heavy-set boy responded, though he sounded somewhat unnerved.

Kyle rolled his eyes. "I don't have to listen to this." And he pushed past Cartman before he could react.

"Ay! Where're you going?!" There was an unmistakable note of panic in his voice now, as though he were afraid that his deepest secret would make its way into the school paper the next day.

"Duh, I'm going to find Kyle, fat ass." With that said, he kicked open the door to the broom cupboard, leaving a stunned Cartman in there like some sort of overweight vampire. "Son of a bitch…"

--

Kyle entered support room just as the light from the setting sun cast a red hue through the glass windows of the classroom. Mr. Mackey was sound asleep at his desk, and Bebe was spinning a pencil on her solitary desk when the Jew came to get her.

"I thought you'd never get here! What happened to you today?" she asked upon seeing him.

Kyle groaned and rolled his eyes as he was again reminded of the horrifying event in the broom cupboard. "Just… promise me you'll stay away from Cartman."

"Cartman?" she repeated in revulsion. "Why?"

"Just trust me on that one." Kyle pulled up a chair across from Bebe's individual desk in detention and attempted to meet her eyes while vainly trying to erase any memories from the last hour. "That was really freaking stupid, you know?" he said as Mr. Mackey's head drooped onto his chest in the corner and he emitted a loud snore. Bebe noticed with relief that her counterpart seemed relatively calm.

She merely nodded and put her head down in shame on the desktop. "I never knew…"

"Never knew what?"

"I always thought that guys were just stupid for fighting all the time… but now I see that you really don't have very much control when it comes to stuff like that… It was like I wasn't even in my own body anymore… or, your body. Or whatever."

"It's called testosterone, Bebe. Of course you never knew. If you had too much of it as a girl, you'd probably be a guy." He snorted at his own lame pun, but then his face became serious once again. "You do realize what you implied by doing that, though… right?"

Bebe blinked. "Honestly, I'm not even sure if I remember what happened…"

"Well…" Kyle began slowly, chewing on his words carefully before just spitting them out. "Everyone pretty much thinks that we're together now."

"I'm sorry…" she said again, and she sounded as though she truly meant it. "Can't we just tell someone… please, Kyle? I _hate _not telling Wendy…"

"After what happened in the classroom, she'll probably have both of us committed to an institution. We'll just have to act like we er… _like_ each other."

She buried her face in her arms and said something muffled that sounded like: "Shit, I'm sorry…" She picked up her head, and Kyle was disturbed to see tears in her eyes that were threatening to spill out. "I hate this! I feel so… unclean and manly!"

As she said this, Kyle twisted a small strand of golden blond hair in between his fingers and shuddered when he saw that it was too oily to unwind itself again. "If it helps any, I think I have a solution for that shower problem."

She brightened up immediately. "Really?!" she asked in excitement. "I swear to God, if you're right, I'll love you forever."

Kyle looked away swiftly, having gone red in the face. "Dude, it's just a shower."

"Are you blushing?!"

"No, I'm not!"

"Well, look at me then!"

Kyle set his teeth and willed his temperature to cool down before he glared her defiantly in the eyes. "Happy?" To his astonishment, Bebe leaned in closer to him. If there was one thing weirder than watching himself throw a fit, it was staring into his own eyes. He averted his gaze to Bebe's (or, technically _his_) nose instead and tried to ignore the fluttering in his stomach.

"Kyle… I don't know if I've ever told you this… but you have really beautiful eyes."

"Huh?"

"Really, they're… gorgeous."

Kyle managed to dig up the nerve to look into his own face, which was still peering at him intently, only to be met by the startling icy blue of Bebe's eyes looking back into his own. "I don't think it was like this before…" he mused.

Bebe suddenly grinned, her freckled nose wrinkling. "I think we're changing back!"

Kyle felt his heart leap to his throat, as he had gotten the sudden image of himself wrapping his arms around Bebe in her normal body. He pushed it aside quickly, afraid that she'd somehow be able to tell what he was thinking. "Let's just get out of here." He twitched his head in Mr. Mackey's direction only to find his nose pointed in the air as he leaned back in his chair. The two of them stood up quietly and left the classroom, heading towards the locker rooms.

"Where are we going?" Bebe asked, noticing unpleasantly where they were headed. That was when she noticed that Kyle had a plastic bag under one arm. "What's that?"

"Towels," he stated simply.

Bebe somehow managed to put two and two together. "You mean we're going to shower in the locker room?! Together?!"

"I know the stupid gym teacher always leaves them unlocked… it should be fine. It's not like there's anyone here to find out." He paused before opening one of the locker doors. "We're using the boys' locker room, by the way," he informed his supposed "partner in crime."

"But that'll make me look like a whore if someone comes in!"

"Well, you already made _me_ look like a bloodthirsty animal. The way I see it, we'd be even."

Bebe felt it wasn't really her place to argue. Reluctantly, she followed him into the dark, damp room. It was empty aside from the steady drip of a leaky shower pipe. "Are you _sure_ no one will come in here?" she asked, looking around the room as if expecting to find someone lurking in the corner.

"No."

"Kyle!" she protested.

"Just don't turn on the lights, and no one will notice."

"What?!" But he shushed her and brought her over to the nearest shower stall; it was leaky, and there was some sort of growth in the farthest corner, but Bebe was too antsy to care. "Now what?"

Kyle put down the bag he had been carrying onto the nearest bench. "We go in fully-clothed, an then we can just dry off and put on some of these PE clothes I nicked from the student store."

"_You_ stole PE clothes?" Bebe let out a snort of a laugh that echoed through the entire room. She clapped her hand over her mouth, blue eyes wide.

Kyle looked at her in exasperation. "Just get in, all right? The sooner we finish, the sooner we can leave." He had already removed his sweatshirt and placed in on top of a nearby locker and motioned for her to do the same thing.

Bebe did as she was told and hopped into the shower after removing her shoes and socks, adjusting the temperature of the water before motioning him inside. "This isn't weird at all," she said sarcastically, closing the curtain around them. "Showering with a boy in my body is completely normal. No one can know about this…"

Kyle scoffed at her statement, neglecting to tell her that people were probably already spreading rumors. "Pass me the shampoo, will ya? I have all this hair to wash now…" he trailed off, his voice lost among the patter of the water.

Bebe shot him a look that he missed due to the lack of illumination in the room and fumbled around in the dark for the bottle. "Oh my God!" she shrieked all of a sudden.

"What?! What happened?!"

"Oh my _God_… ew!" Bebe began hopping up and down in the shower stall, flinging water and soap everywhere.

"What is it already?!"

"I think I just touched a spider! It crawled over my hand, and now I don't know where…" Her sentence was cut short when she slipped ungracefully on the linoleum flooring, grabbed Kyle around the waist to try to stop herself from falling, and sent them both tumbling to the floor.

"What are you doing?!" Kyle said, spitting hair and water out of his mouth as the body on top of his groaned in response. "Nice job, smart one."

"Hey! You're the one who told me not to turn on the light!" Bebe attempted to stand up again but stepped on a bar of soap and stumbled a second time. "Christ…"

Both of them were too busy bickering silently to notice that someone else had slipped into the locker room. "What the hell are you two doing in here?"

* * *

**Author's Note:** Like? Hate? I'd appreciate feedback. :D Once again, so sorry for the wait… my academic life has been super sucky recently… I think this might have been a little longer than the other chapters; that's my sorry attempt for making up for the wait…

**Lillyfan123** I'm so glad you enjoyed the first few chapters! Honestly, after I read your review (which was a really long time ago), I just got inspired to continue writing. :) It's so nice to know there are other KyBe obsessors (is that even a real word?) out there. xD

**Waste-o-Tron** I'm glad you liked it! I was particularly touched by your saying how well I kept characters in character… It really isn't easy sometimes… I've never been much of a successful writer when it comes to comedy, so I'm glad this one is at least a little funny!

**jusAgurl93x** Well, I added more. What did you think of it this time? xD

**thequillofdestiny **I'm just really glad that you liked the story… it means so much to know that people actually read it and notice those sorts of small details. Thank you!

**ktkitty4 **That was pretty much a "my bad" boo-boo; I didn't really specify how old they are… wait, I think I already sent a personal response to this? LoL Glad you liked it, though.

**baba12p4** I hope you didn't feel like you were waiting for too long!


	4. And This is How it Goes

**Author's Note: **That was a shocker, eh? Trust me… high school drama will become even more prevalent in these next few chapters. xD

**Disclaimer: **It's not mine, it hasn't been mine, and it never will be mine… which sucks really hard.

* * *

**Cartman Was Right**

**Chapter 4**

**And This is How it Goes…**

* * *

It was like some sort of scene out of a cheap high school fan fiction (**A/N:** Go figure xD). Standing, no… _looming_ above the two of them like a vulture was Sheila Broflovski with her hands on her hips and her heavy brow set in a wrinkle of disappointment. A light flicked on and illuminated the dingy locker room and its faded yellow walls.

"Mom?" Bebe asked, standing up abruptly when she remembered the suggestive position she was in. Kyle was left to scramble up behind her whilst rubbing his abused ribcage. "What're you doing here?" Water was still falling all around her drenched body.

"How'd you even know we were here?" Kyle asked, becoming unpleasantly suspicious of his mother's ability to read minds once again.

Before she could answer, Mr. Mackey appeared next to Kyle's mother, looking even more spindly than usual beside the large woman. Now the two of them knew who had turned on the lights. "Mmkay…" he said slowly, shaking a disapproving finger at the two students. Kyle reached behind him awkwardly and turned off the water. "Skipping detention's bad, mmkay. And so is having sex in the showers. Now I think you both need to get back home, mmkay. And, Kyle, you'll have to finish your detention tomorrow after school, mmkay."

The two of them shared a look of dismay before Sheila grabbed Bebe's arms to get her attention. "Where have you been? Your father and I have been worried sick!" She grabbed a towel to dry off the person she believed to be her son. "Honestly, Bubby, it's dark out already…" she continued, her tone softening a little as she wrapped Bebe up in the towel and shuffled through the pile of PE clothes that Kyle had brought with him. Within minutes, Bebe was dried and shepherded out of the room, Mr. Mackey in tow.

Meanwhile, Kyle was left to fend for himself. The Mexican janitor, Mr. Venezuela, was now standing at the door to the locker room, clicking impatiently while Kyle dried off and put on a fresh change of clothes. Let it need not be said that he kept his nose skyward as he stripped off the wet clothes and donned the dry ones inside the shower stall.

He was somewhat unsettled by the fact that Bebe's mother hadn't been beside his own. It was an odd sensation, having a little bit of freedom when he was so accustomed to his mom breathing down his neck while he used the internet or checking up on him in his room every four and a half minutes as though expecting to catch him in the act of smoking a joint.

The sad thing was, despite his complaints and pleas for freedom, he missed the tenderness of a mother's loving caress, the security that came from a hug, even if the giver was a head shorter than him.

Kyle pulled on Bebe's red jacket and pulled his wet hair into a sloppy bun before leaving the locker room in a hurry; Terrence and Phillip was about to start, and he was subjected to walking home in the Colorado winter.

--

Bebe made a stop at Kyle's locker for his math book (she only did it to keep up appearances; there was no way she could do calculus) before following his mother to the car. She tried and failed to open the locker three times before she realized that she was using her own combination on the lock. "Oh, God damn it…" she muttered.

"Kyle?"

Bebe nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard someone else behind her, but she relaxed when she saw her friend Rebecca peering from around the corner. "Hey, Rebecca!" she said, sounding too happy to see her. "Why're you still at school?"

Rebecca smiled and seemed to take her friend's greeting a good sign and slid herself between Bebe and Kyle's locker, fidgeting her hands in front of her. Bebe faltered. "What're you doing?" Her arm was still extended to Kyle's lock, giving the false impression that she had pinned Rebecca between herself and the locker.

"A lot of girls really like you, Kyle."

Bebe froze, somewhat disturbed. "Thanks…?" How was one supposed to respond to something like that?

"_I _really like you, Kyle… And I think about you all the time." Did she just like saying his name or something? "I read the poems that you write online all the time… every night before bed, usually."

Bebe felt her upper lip twitch; that was just weird. "Cool…?" she said hesitantly. _Jew boy writes poems?_

"Do you want to go to the dance with me?" Rebecca spat out as though she had been struggling with swallowing her word vomit for days.

"Excuse me?"

"I mean… I know it's kinda last minute… but – "

"I'm going with Bebe," Bebe said automatically, cutting off her friend in mid-sentence. She didn't mean to sound rude, but going to a dance with a girl when there were so many attractive boys around was simply out of the question.

Rebecca raised a plucked eyebrow. "That's not what Bebe said when I asked her."

"Well, it's true!" Bebe retorted, suddenly feeling another testosterone rush as she became overwhelmed with inexplicable feelings of offense toward Kyle and jealousy toward Rebecca. What did it matter if some other girl liked him?

"Why do you want to go with _her_ so badly?!" It sounded almost like a whine.

"Because… because I like her!" It was the first thing she could come up with to say.

"How can you like her still?!" Rebecca responded in outrage. "It's been four years! And all she does is laugh at you! She's a total _bitch_ sometimes!"

Bebe glared and had to swallow the urge to yell. "You're her friend, you know. Who's the bitchy one now, huh? Why don't you just go crawl away and find someone else to annoy?!" Her voice was dripping with so much spite that the anger was starting to make her hands shake.

Miffed and looking as though she were about to cry, Rebecca turned on her heel and strutted off with her nose pointed in the air.

_So that's how it is,_ Bebe wondered. _Girls really don't care about anything else…_ And then, _He's liked me for four years? What just happened?_ She questioned to herself as she completely forgot about her books and went out into the parking lot to meet Kyle's mom. Why hadn't Rebecca ever told her that she had a thing for Kyle? Unless she expected something between her and Kyle in the first place… what did it look like from the outside before they'd switched bodies?

"Hurry up, Bubby, the engine's running."

Bebe pushed her thoughts aside and clambered into the passenger seat after the minivan had pulled up alongside the curb. "Mom? Couldn't we have given Bebe a ride home?" She was more concerned with how her body's hair would look the next morning than Kyle's currently red nose and icy fingers.

Sheila Broflovski emitted a noise of disbelief and nearly hit an elderly woman that was crossing the street at the wrong place. "Kyle, sweetie, I think your father and I need to give you a talk about girls when we get home." She was obviously still disturbed by the whole shower incident…

"I know what sex is, Mom – "

"Just because you know what it is doesn't mean you should be doing it in the shower," she replied sternly.

"But we weren't – "

Kyle's mother ended the argument without a word and instead turned up the volume on the radio so that the fuzzy mariachi music drowned out any attempts at spoken word. "Bitch…" Bebe mumbled.

"What was that, hun?"

"Nothing, mom," she said as the car pulled into the driveway with a screech of tires. She got out of the vehicle and followed Sheila Broflovski begrudgingly into the house where she was greeted by Kyle's dad as soon and she had taken off her shoes on the landing; Kyle's mom had gone up to the master bedroom to allow for some "father-son" bonding time.

"Kyle…" Gerald appeared to be chewing on his tongue as he thought about how to say his next words as he led Bebe over to the nearest couch. He observed the body of his son with scrutiny. "When I was your age," he began wisely, "I went through the same exact thing."

Bebe scoffed. "I doubt it," she muttered under her breath.

"I know girl's seem really hot all of a sudden… but you really need to remember to exert some control over yourself."

Being a girl, Bebe didn't know exactly how to respond, so she said the first thing that came to mind… from her experience with Clyde anyway… "I know, dad… It just gets really hard sometimes…" When Mr. Broflovski gave her a look she recognized as the "stink eye," she repeated what she said inside her own head and promptly turned a bright shade of red as she realized the innuendo. "Oh! No! I mean… it's _difficult_! It gets difficult!"

Kyle's dad brushed it off and rubbed an unsettled hand across his bearded chin. "Well…" he said slowly, adjusting his yarmulke to give his hands something to do. "Whatever the reason may be, Kyle, your mom and I both think that you should have these." With that, he pulled out a small box from his coat pocket and shoved it into his supposed son's hand.

Bebe took a closer look at the object in her grasp and literally felt her eyes bug out: it was a box of Trojan brand condoms.

--

Mrs. Stevens wasn't even at home when Kyle got there wet and shivering like a butterfly in the breeze. He found a sloppy note written on the fridge telling him to leave a list of groceries for her to buy the following day and informing him that she had gone shopping in Denver; he cringed when he saw that she had misspelled "mall." So, rolling his eyes, he decided to cook something for himself that wasn't swimming with nitrites.

The fridge, as he had discovered the night before, had very little inside it that was edible, but a yellow, plastic package of processed meat caught his eye, so he picked it up and read the label: ham. Shrugging, he tore off the corner and took a nibble off of the corner of one of the circular pieces of cured meat. His eyes went wide when he tasted it, and suddenly he found that he had eaten the entire package.

"Oh… my… God…" he said to himself, already knowing what he needed to add to Mrs. Stevens' grocery list. He ran up to Bebe's room without a second thought in search of a pencil and some paper. To his dismay, there were no writing utensils in sight.

_Why did girls have to keep their rooms so freaking clean?_ He wondered upon entering her sleeping quarters. By putting everything neatly away, Bebe had made it nearly impossible for Kyle to find anything. He tipped over the old swivel chair in her room in his search for a blanket or something to keep his shoulders from shaking. In exasperation, he flung open the door on her desk and dragged out a large pile of folders, some of which looked as though they had not been touched in years, and flopped onto her bed with them in tow. A manila folder, covered in flower stickers and marked as "confidential," caught his eye, and he opened it in curiosity. He very nearly fell over laughing when he saw what it was.

It was a copy of "the list," the very one that had nearly convinced Kyle to burn down the school back when he was nine. He had totally forgotten about it within a week of the whole incident, but that didn't stop him from chewing his nails over it for a few days. And when he didn't care in the slightest, he found the document clutched firmly in his hands.

_What incredible irony._

Shrugging to himself and thinking that he was definitely mature enough to handle such a devastating truth by now, Kyle turned over the paper in his hands. As expected, there was a list of the names of all the boys in the fourth grade class, beside which each girl signed her initials followed by a circled number; Kyle supposed this was the so-called "ranking."

He scrolled down and saw with grim satisfaction that Cartman had indeed been voted last. It was also no surprise that Kenny had been voted the cutest almost unanimously; Kyle rolled his eyes to cover up a laugh. Clearly girls didn't care very much about poverty when they couldn't even add fractions yet.

He found his own name next to the number six, but what surprised him the most was that Bebe's unmistakable signature was written right beside a "one" drawn in red pen and circled so blatantly that one would have had to be visually impaired to not see it. His innate reaction to laugh at her was unexpectedly suppressed when he felt the corners of his mouth tug upwards in the slightest arc of a smile. In the back of his mind, he wondered whether or not she still remembered having voted him the cutest boy, which was what caused him to enter the classroom grinning his ass off the next day.

"What?" Bebe asked him, annoyed, as she eyed the body that was again clad in gym shorts, a t-shirt, and a sweatshirt; she was still unsettled by the gracious gift Mr. Broflovski had bestowed upon her the day before.

He simply gave her a look that said: "I know something you don't know" and sat down beside her. "I found the list," he stated bluntly.

"What are you talking about?"

But Mr. Garrison had already started taking attendance before the bell had rung. "Token? Kyle? Eric?" Each name was answered by a raised hand. "Okay, class…" he droned after closing his roll sheet. "That's the bell, so it looks like you'd better get your asses to P.E." He returned to his desk and whipped out his monthly copy of Cosmogirl.

While the rest of the class walked nonchalantly toward the door, chattering happily about this and that, Kyle and Bebe remained in their seats staring at each other with identical masks of horror on their faces; they had both forgotten that P.E. was on Wednesdays. It wasn't until Wendy grabbed onto Kyle's arm and pulled him along behind her that Bebe resigned herself to following Stan to the showers with no other alternative. She watched her own body disappear around a corner.

"Dude, are you okay? You look like you just brushed your teeth and then drank a gallon of orange juice."

"I'm fine… I guess…"

"Well then, let's go." Stan beckoned her into the locker room, and she followed stiffly, taking extra care to tuck in her arms so as not to bump into anything or anyone. The boys' locker room was hot and humid due to the steam from the showers.

All of a sudden, Tweek, clad only in a towel, ran past Bebe screaming something about gnomes stealing his PE shorts. Bebe looked away, slightly pink in the face, when Craig soon followed suit ("Tweek! Get back here!"). Needless to say, Craig was more toned and muscular than Tweek, who was so thin that one could see his ribs, and Bebe literally felt her eyes bug out and her mouth become dry when she watched the muscles of his bare back, glistening with steam from the shower, ripple as he chased after the caffeine-dependent boy. "Jesus…" she whispered to herself in silent awe, pulling on the collar of her jacket in a futile attempt to cool herself down.

"What're you staring at?"

Stan's voice brought Bebe back to Earth with so much force that she jumped a foot into the air. "Uh… uh, I, uh…" she floundered, for Stan had removed his shirt and was staring at her with a look on his face that clearly read, "What the hell?"

_Oh my God… _He was better looking than Craig, if that was even possible, and Bebe felt a sudden yet brief surge of jealously toward Wendy. By that point, she was gaping openly at his bare chest, unaware of the fact that she was beginning to attract the attention of the other boys in the room.

"I think he's a fag…" someone mumbled, but Bebe was too absorbed in ogling Stan to care.

"Jesus, Kyle… stop drooling already. I know I'm hot, it's okay," Stan laughed, obviously secure enough with his own sexuality to make a homosexual insinuation. Bebe's eyes strayed down to his waist where he was currently unbuttoning his jeans; she spun around so fast that she slipped, causing her hat to fly off her head and land on the floor near a pair of bare legs.

"Here." Bebe looked up into the blue-green eyes of Kenny McCormick, who, like the rest of the males in the room, was tormenting her with his exposed arms and torso. Furthermore, his typically covered head was revealed, unveiling a boyish face and shaggy blond hair that fell dreamily about his eyes as he held out the ushanka for her to take.

Bebe was sure that she was going to start hyperventilating. She willed herself to speak, but no words came out. Kenny raised an eyebrow, set her hat back on top of Bebe's head, and then walked back to his locker.

Bebe followed his rear with her eyes all the way out of her line of vision.

--

Kyle wasn't having an easier time across the hall.

"Wendy?" he croaked as the two of them stopped in front of the section in which their lockers were located inconveniently next to each other amongst the synthetic scents of flowery body spray and deodorant. "I think I need to go home."

"Do you have cramps? I know yours get really bad sometimes…"

Kyle managed to suppress a grimace. "No, no… It's none of that." He tried to ignore the fact that Wendy, as well as several other girls around him, was removing her blouse.

"Oh," she replied. "That's good. Listen, Bebe… you know how I told you that my breasts grew last week?"

Kyle blushed, making a mental decision not to remove anything from his – or rather _Bebe's_ – body. _This is so wrong…_ "W-What…?!" There he was as a girl and talking to his best friend's girlfriend about her breasts. That seemed pretty fucked up, to say the least…

"Well," Wendy continued, shrugging off her shirt over her slim shoulders. "I bought a new bra yesterday, and since it's my anniversary with Stan, I wanted to wear it…" she blushed. "I mean… I don't exactly know what's going to happen later, and I wanted to be prepared at least…" She spun herself around full force and Kyle was unexpectedly greeted by her cleavage. "What do you think?"

The lingerie was made of pale pink lace, but all Kyle could look at was the junction in the middle of her bust, which was covered by a tiny pink bow that only emphasized the pale color of her exposed flesh. "Wow…" he heard himself breathe against his will as he stared openly at her chest; what Stan didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

"Really? I'm glad you like it!" Wendy replied enthusiastically, clasping her hands in front of her in a way that pushed the two mounds of flesh just a little more closely together.

Kyle merely nodded, eyes unblinking.

He stared at her until she pulled a grey t-shirt over her head, and then he suddenly came to his senses as if treated by some sort of counter spell. "Bebe, why aren't you dressed yet?" he heard Wendy's voice ask him innocently.

Kyle felt as though he were going to pass out. "I forgot my clothes at home," he said as an excuse, but Wendy just laughed and used her persuasive talents to get Kyle to change out of his cardigan and into his gym shorts, which revealed quite a bit of his feminine legs.

"You look good, Bebe. Kyle doesn't stand a chance." Wendy winked, joined in the herd of the other girls heading out, and left Kyle standing dumbfounded in the locker room.

"Hey!" he yelled, coming to his senses and running after her to the school gymnasium, practically tripping on her own feet. "What do you mean by that? 'Kyle doesn't stand a chance'?" But Wendy silenced him with a finger pressed delicately to her lips and pointed subtly to the boys, who were strutting toward the girls, brushing their hands through their hair and grinning handsomely every several seconds. Wendy saw Stan scratch the back of his neck when he made eye contact with her, and she sighed in private delight before going to meet him and linking his fingers with hers.

"Hello, kids!" Dumb as an ox, Officer Barbrady appeared in front of Kyle like a blue wall. "Your teacher's out today… so they asked me to fill in for him!"

"Do you even have a teaching credential, _sir_?" Kyle asked him mockingly.

"… Yes," he responded after a lengthy pause, walking toward the bleachers and promptly falling asleep.

The Jew nudged the girl nearest to him, who happened to be Rebecca. "Oh, yeah," he joked. "He's a keeper." He raised an eyebrow when she gave him the cold shoulder and walked away. Kyle rolled his eyes yet again and simply strolled over to his own body, which was grimacing in embarrassment. "Hey." He raised an eyebrow.

"That…" Bebe began, "was the most embarrassing experience of my entire life…" She put her flaming face in an upturned palm.

"Likewise."

"Kyle?"

"What?"

"Kenny's really hot…" she practically groaned in a manner that was almost lustful.

"Don't say that! You're a guy!"

"But still…" She made a delicate fanning motion over her dreamy face, and her eyes rolled ever so slightly back into her head.

"Would you stop that?!" Kyle scowled, partly out of jealousy. "You look like you've just gotten laid or something!"

Bebe rolled her aqua eyes and put a hand on her hip. "Just try to stop me." She pulled a childish stunt and stuck out her tongue at Kyle, to which he replied with a look of disbelief.

"Hey!" a voice yelled from the other end of the gym. "Heads up!"

"Look out!" Kyle yelled.

"Huh?" Bebe turned her head to meet the voice, but she was too slow to react to the dodge ball that had been chucked in her direction. Her girl reflexes told her to cover her face, but the ball hit her in the groin, and an overwhelming pain came over her that caused extreme feelings of nausea and ultimately caused her to be overcome by blackness for the second time in the last three days.

--

Bebe came to in the middle of a circle of onlookers surrounding her, the majority of them dressed in South Park High PE uniforms. All of a sudden, a pair of hands grabbed her collar.

Kyle ignored the whispers of his fellow students and flung himself at his own body. "Please tell me you're still going to be able to reproduce!" Bebe saw her own face swim into focus in front of her with a look of mingled horror and anxiety on its girly features.

"Wha…?"

"I swear to God, if you broke anything…" Kyle trailed off, flexing his fingers and very nearly popping a vein in his temple.

"What're you talking about?"

"Dude, you just got hit in the nuts with a dodge ball," she heard Craig say somewhere to her left. He emitted a throaty snicker.

Without warning, and to the horror of everyone in the room, Bebe burst into tears, sitting up, slouching her shoulders, and positively wailing at the top of her lungs. At first, Kyle thought it was because she was still injured and had rediscovered the pain, but he was soon proven otherwise. "I'm still a guy!" And she let out a yell that had the entire class jam their hands over their ears.

"Jesus, dude!" Stan managed, to which Bebe only cried harder.

"Shut up, you faggy Jew!" Cartman yelled above the din. "Stop acting like such a girl!"

Kyle growled and felt oddly inspired to aid the fat boy in sharing Bebe's pain. He stamped on his foot instead.

"Ay! What the hell are you doing, dyke?"

Bebe stopped her tears long enough to retort by saying, "She's not a dyke, you fucking fat ass!"

"And he's not a fag, asshole!" Kyle chipped in.

"You wanna go?" Cartman faced Kyle squarely and held out his arms, making hand motions inviting him to rush forward. "Bring it, bitch."

A murmur came up from the crowd, but before either Kyle or Cartman could take another step, Officer Barbrady woke up, though it was difficult to tell at first because of his designer sunglasses. He looked at his watch. "Oh, fish sticks, children… it looks like it's time to go!" He shepherded them out by threatening to hit them with his baton.

Bebe winced as she slid out of her shorts and put her jeans back on. "Ow…"

Stan offered her a pitying look. "Dude… I'm really beginning to think that something isn't right; what guy covers his face during a game of dodge ball?"

Bebe chose not to answer and just pulled on the orange jacket over her head with a frown on her face. "Let's just go," she demanded curtly. She left Stan and walked past the other boys without so much as a second glance. She folded her arms in front of her and felt something in the breast pocket of the coat. Upon reaching in, she pulled out the scarf she had lent to Kyle several days ago. _What's this doing here? _But she was distracted by a crowd that had formed in front of her as she exited the locker room (her gait was slightly irregular) and found herself next to Kyle yet again.

"What the hell's everyone staring at?" For a chattering crowd had gathered outside the gym around the school bulletin board.

Kyle had to stand on his tiptoes to see anything because of his current status on the lower end of the height scale. "Oh, shit…" he breathed, hearing Bebe whisper a profanity under her breath as well.

Right on the front page of the daily school bulletin was a snapshot of him and Bebe lying together on the floor of the boys' shower.

Standing beside the picture was Cartman, leaning against the wall with a smug smirk on his face.

* * *

**Author's Note: **And the drama continues? xD I hope this was kinda exciting; a lot of stuff happened in this chapter. That means there's plenty to review about (hint hint). LoL, okay… I'll leave you to do your thing. –Points a

**Waste-o-Tron **I'm really glad you like the story so far; it means a lot! I hope you liked this chapter too!

**Lillyfan123** First of all, I really love getting your reviews; they make me feel compelled to continue writing. I'm so glad you're liking this story too… It's nice to know that there are other KyBe fans out there.

**Ceylon** Sorry for the wait! I hope you found this chapter entertaining; I know the shower scene probably wasn't as epic as you would have like, LoL.

**Missashleywise** Aw! Thank you for your review! It really made my day! I'm so glad you're liking the story thus far!

**XxLoveStanxX** I have to say I was almost hurt that it took you so long to review, LoL. I'm kinda kidding, of course. But I know how it is… life's hectic for me now, and I'm struggling to try to post these chapters… I really love getting reviews from you especially since you're already such an esteemed South Park writer.

**tubular-turtle** Sorry for the wait! I hope this made up for it!

Thanks again to everyone who reviewed the previous chapters as well… It really means a lot to me!


	5. He Knows the Truth

**Author's Note:** First of all, I apologize for taking such a long time… if you read my profile (which I really don't expect many of you guys to have done), I had this chapter written a few days ago, but it sucked so hard that my OCD would not let me post it until some major changes were made. So, I'm sorry.

Secondly, let me say that I really appreciate all the feedback you guys have given me. It really means a lot. This chapter won't be as epic as the one before. It's more like a set up chapter or filler chapter (whichever one you prefer) for what will happen next. But… I suppose something important does happen with Stan in this chapter…

This is something I don't normally like to do, but I'm going to share something about my life away from fan fiction. I nicked a car yesterday while pulling out of a parking lot. Nothing major, really, some of the paint just came off. I've just been feeling so guilty because this isn't the first time that it's happened… I'm a terrible driver. I haven't told my parents, but I'm telling you all because I know I won't feel any better until I get this thing off my chest.

Lastly… that stupid ring song from the Jonas Brothers episode is stuck in my head. xD

This was a stupidly long author's note… I'll shut up now so that you can just read the story, LoL.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own South Park.

* * *

**Cartman Was Right**

**Chapter 5**

**He Knows the Truth**

* * *

"I'll beat the fucking shit out of you!"

Eric Cartman, in all of his massive glory, braced himself for an impact from either Kyle or Bebe, but he was hit by a sudden, overwhelming sense of nostalgia when the side of his face was met by Wendy Testaburger's right fist. He was rendered off-balance, and the two of them were sent toppling to the floor in a whirl of red and purple cardigans.

"Holy shit, dude!" Stan's mouth was open in the shape of an "o," and he, as well as the rest of the student body, was too shocked to do anything to save Cartman from his girlfriend's wrath. They had gathered around the grappling pair in the shape of a semi-circle that sufficed as a wrestling arena.

"You fucking asshole!" Wendy landed a particularly nasty punch to Cartman's face, and a disturbing crunch of cartilage told the onlookers that she had broken his nose. "I'll _kill_ you!" Despite the fact that Cartman outweighed Wendy like an ox outweighed a fawn, he remained completely helpless as blow upon blow were dealt to his face, chest, and anywhere else she could reach.

It was amazing how a fight between two people could arouse the most primal instincts out of the normally intelligent. Cheers and whooping broke out all around them in torrents. The only three who weren't making any noise were Stan, Kyle, and Bebe, all of whom were simply gaping in dumfounded amazement.

"Kick his ass, Wendy!"

"Oh, Jesus! Gah!"

"Come on, Eric, you can beat a girl!"

"Timmah!"

Though something about the whole situation, Wendy panting and red in the face with her hair all mussed up, made Stan's temperature rise ever-so-slightly, he utilized his football-player's body and pulled her off of the cowering mass when he saw her skirt ride up her thighs a little higher than he was comfortable with. "Wendy!" he exclaimed, forcing her to face him by grabbing her shaking shoulders. "What do you think you're doing?!"

"LET ME GO, STANLEY!"

He had to give his head a little shake to recover from her explosive reaction; it was enough to cause the lights overhead to flicker precariously. "Nope."

"EXCUSE ME?!" She looked positively mad; her hair was sticking up in several different directions, and her eyes had the look of a deranged beast.

Stan was the only one who wasn't flinching in fear. His look sparkled with affection and almost seemed to say, "Isn't she beautiful when she's angry?" "You're going to the principle's office, missy." Before she could utter any further protest, he picked her up and carried her over his shoulder just as he had done to Kyle a few days prior.

After recovering from her initial surprise, Wendy began to struggle. "Put me down! Put me down right now!" She pounded fruitlessly against her boyfriend's muscular back, and the muscular arm he had wrapped around her knees restricted her kicking legs. "Sta-an!"

"Hey, Wendy," he said back patronizingly, grinning privately to himself when he felt her bust pressed against his shoulder.

"Stan!"

Her heated yells were heard long after she and Stan had disappeared out of visual range.

"Dude, this is pretty fucked up right here," Kyle said bluntly as the rest of the school groaned in disappointment and began to meander away. How was it that none of the teachers managed to intrude on recent happenings? Perhaps dislike of Cartman was more widespread than one would have imagined.

A groan from the floor reminded them both Kyle and Bebe that Cartman was still alive and probably in critical condition. Before Kyle could stop her, Bebe knelt down to closely examine the damage. It was with a sigh of relief that she noticed that the injuries weren't nearly as bad as the time that Wendy had almost destroyed Cartman for making fun of breast cancer.

"You okay, fat ass?" Forgetting her anger momentarily and allowing maternal instinct to take over, Bebe helped Cartman hoist himself off of the ground while trying her best to avoid getting blood on her front. "God _damn_ you're heavy!"

Kyle didn't miss the victorious smirk that Cartman flashed him as he was being led away. It gave him the sudden urge to inflict bodily harm upon the next person who approached him. Instead, he ripped the photograph off of the bulletin board so forcefully that several other documents flew off along with it and fluttered to the floor. "Butters!" Kyle managed to catch the young Stotch boy before he had walked too far away. He brandished the photograph under his nose.

"W-What?"

"How the hell did Cartman get a hold of this picture?" As much as he hated to admit it, Kyle had always been a bit jealous of Cartman's ability to always manipulate the situation in his favor. It surely would have been a desirable skill to have at the present time.

Butters fumbled with the hem of his baby blue sweater before answering. "Gee, Bebe… he'll be awful sore with me if I – "

"Just say it!"

"A-All righty, then." Butters' voice quavered like an out of tune ukulele. "H-He gave the janitor a disposable camera and bribed him with twenty dollars to follow you and Kyle after he saw the two of you sneak out of detention…" he trailed off in obvious discomfort as his watery eyes shifted uneasily across Kyle's face in anticipation for an explosive reaction.

Kyle merely listened in revulsion. The idea of being followed around – no, _stalked_ – by Cartman made him shudder as if an entire colony of ants had crawled up his pant leg. But when he didn't see Bebe for the rest of the school day, he was haunted by disturbing images of himself being assaulted by the large German.

--

It took only the slightest whiff of beef and the quietest hiss of the stove to tell Stan that dinner was ready. Even though it was only four o' clock, his mother's diet would not permit her to eat past six, so he closed his math book and headed downstairs before his dad ate all of the potatoes again. Not that Randy Marsh needed it; he was packing quite a gut in recent years. More than once, Stan found himself wondering what in the world his mom ever saw in his dad to prompt her into marrying him.

"Stan! Randy! It's time for dinner!" Sharon Marsh had covered the table completely with platter upon platter containing enough food to induce drooling from even the fattest of bears, though Stan was rather irked with the fact that he was not out somewhere with Wendy on their anniversary instead, as she had still been a bit volatile when he drove her home earlier. It was a disappointment, needless to say, because Wendy had even hinted to him seductively that she had a surprise for later that night. Let's face it, sex was the first thought that came to mind, and it had him sweating all day until Cartman had pissed her off.

"Come on, guys, dinner's ready!" Stan heard his mom call again.

The two male inhabitants, father and son, seated themselves across from each other and spooned unnecessarily large helpings of mashed potatoes and steak onto their plates. Randy dug heartily into his food, getting bits of white vegetable matter all over his mustache and on his upper lip. His wife ignored him and eyed her son, who had not taken a bite yet.

There was obviously something amiss with any teenage boy who didn't scarf down everything in front of him. "Is something wrong, Stanley?" she asked, using his full first name the way she always did when she was expressing her concern.

The young Marsh boy shrugged, pushing his peas and carrots around in circles with his fork as steam unfurled into the air. "Not really… everyone's just been acting really strange recently."

"What do you mean?"

"Well… something doesn't seem right with Wendy, for one thing."

Randy let out a large belch and excused himself at a glare from his wife. "What, do you think she's cheating on you or something? Is that why you guys aren't going out tonight?"

"No!" Stan replied hurriedly in her defense. "It's not like that. It's just… she beat the crap out of Cartman today…"

"Well, Stan, we all know that she _does_ get a bit – "

But Sharon was rudely interrupted by her husband. "Hey, you guys… speaking of crap…" He reached into his pocket and dug out what appeared to be an old photograph, yellowing at the corners. "Look what I found when I was cleaning out the attic this morning." He shoved it under his wife's nose, and she let out a cry of disgust.

"Really, Randy?" For he had shown her an old picture from Zurich depicting himself on the top of what seemed to be a large pile of…

"Shit, Dad… You still have that?" Stan asked, his eyes wide in amazement. "I still can't believe you did that!"

His dad polished his fingernails on the front of his shirt, leaving a smear of steak juice on his collar. "Well, son, your old man's just one awesome – "

"Honestly! I hope you don't act like this when your daughter brings her boyfriend over from the university for Thanksgiving!" Sharon set her cutleries down forcefully and frowned in disgust at the two males at the table as they fought back snickers.

"I see how it is, Sharon! A man can no longer be proud of his accomplishments! Fine! Fine!"

"You know that's not what I meant!"

"Well then what _did_ you mean?"

"You know what I meant!"

"You guys!" Stan said as loudly as he could before it could be considered yelling. He honestly hoped with all his heart that he and Wendy would never fight about the type of things his parents did. "As I was _saying_… Kyle's been acting kinda weird too."

"Maybe he's just finally realized his attraction to you." Randy took a swig of beer from his glass bottle and let out another quieter burp.

"Randy!" Sharon hissed angrily.

"Yeah, Dad, Kyle's not gay. He's liked some girl for a really long time."

His mom let out a gasp and nearly let her fork fall to the floor. "Really? Who?"

"I don't think I'm supposed to know because he never told me, but it's so obvious… it's this girl, Bebe." Stan drained his glass of apple juice and refilled it so full that he had to lean over it and slurp some off the top before handling it.

"The one you invited to your clubhouse when you guys were little?"

"Yeah…" Stan began, wondering briefly how his mother even remembered that. He hadn't even been aware that she'd been paying attention at the time. "But I think she's less obsessed with Kyle's 'hot ass' now."

Randy snorted with laughter, spraying the rest of the table with Budweiser.

"Gross, Dad!"

"Randy!"

--

Kyle had to deal with school alone that day. He'd never realized it, but it was actually worse to be a girl when rumors started. He'd been called a whore, a slut, a bitch, and several other names he'd never even heard of all in one day, and all because Cartman was enough of a jerk to sneak a picture of him and Bebe in the shower. How many normal people did that?

He stopped his lonely trek and located the log in the South Park cemetery where he and Stan had sat down so many times to visit Chef during their elementary school days. It was hidden underneath nearly three feet of snow, an indication that it had been cold and neglected for far too long. He brushed off some of the powder and sat down despite the peeling bark. "Hey, Chef," he greeted, pulling his jacket around him more snugly. The grey tombstone seemed to nod back at him, and Kyle could almost hear its response:

"_Hello, children, how's it goin'?"_ The good-natured, grinning face of the former cafeteria chef swam into view in front of him.

"Bad," he answered automatically with a dismal note in his voice.

"_Why bad?"_

"Chef… I don't suppose you've ever been a woman."

"_A woman? Now what you little crackers been smokin' this time?"_

"I ran into this girl…"

"_She hot?"_

"Is that relevant?"

"_Do you wanna make sweet love to her down by the fire, children?"_

"That hardly matters right now!"

He could almost see Chef shrug. _"It could."_

Kyle ignored the comment. "We switched bodies."

"_Oh."_

"Well, what should I do?" Why was Chef being so uncharacteristically useless?

"_Children, I don't think I'm the best person for you to ask. Why don't you ask your buddy, Stan?"_

"Because he doesn't exactly know about the whole thing…"

"_Maybe you should tell him."_

Before Kyle had the opportunity to respond, another person had crunched up through the snow behind him. Chef's face suddenly dissipated and simply joined with the rest of the air. "Are you okay?" Bebe asked him, sitting beside him on the old log without being invited. The concern in her voice was genuine.

He mulled over several responses, all of which involved several naughty words and many unjust accusations. Instead, all that came out of his mouth was a monotonous "I'm fine."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Why wouldn't I be?"

"For starters, you're sitting here by yourself in the middle of winter, talking to a tombstone." She let out a soft laugh, which was almost drowned out by a sudden gust of wind that made both of their eyes water.

"Normally I'd talk to my parents, but obviously…"

"Oh, yeah."

"Kyle?" Bebe asked tentatively, wondering if the timing was really appropriate. She made to twirl her hair with her fingers, but when she felt that her shoulders were bare, she rested her hands to twitch uncomfortably in her lap instead.

"What?" he responded with the slightest hint of bitterness in his voice.

"I actually came here to talk to you about a few other things…"

"Ok," he consented curtly.

Bebe took this as a signal to begin talking. "Rebecca said something interesting to me yesterday, and I can't stop thinking about it…"

"Oh?"

"Yeah… she said that… you've liked me for four years, or something… I mean, she only mentioned it in passing, so I could've heard wrong, but…" she trailed off, and Kyle thought he caught smallest whiff of hopefulness in her voice.

He avoided making eye contact in favor of staring at the imposing tombstone in the ground in front of him and chose to remain silent as falling snowflakes collected on his eyelashes. He blinked them away carelessly and rested his elbow on one knee and propped his chin on his upturned palm.

"Kyle?" Bebe asked again. It was a timid little voice that made his vision more colorful all of a sudden.

"Well…" he paused, unsure of how to defend himself against such an inquiry. Was it finally time to come clean? "So what? _I _found the list." Decidedly not. He took the "mature" route and changed the subject.

Bebe, whose nose had gone red from the cold, raised an eyebrow. "I still don't know what you're talking about…"

"You know," he answered patronizingly, closing his eyes pompously. "The one you and those dumb girls made back in fourth grade."

Obviously the "dumb girl" comment struck a nerve because Bebe was beginning to smoke at the ears despite the cold. "I resent that!"

"You still voted me first!"

A blush donned itself in full bloom on Bebe's face. "I was, like, nine!"

"Doesn't mean it didn't happen."

To his slight surprise, Bebe didn't respond with a witty comeback or an insulting remark. Instead, she grabbed large tufts of red hair on either side of her head and glared. "Why the _hell_ do we always do this?!"

Kyle knew precisely what she was getting at. "You mean how we get along for a minute, and then _kinda_ get along, and then hate each other?"

"Exactly! Why do we do it?"

The Jew paused for several moments. Why _did_ they always fight? He'd never really given it a second thought. He'd always assumed it was just something stupid couples did if the girl took too long to put on her shoes. "It must be tension." When he was answered by a confused look, he decided to elaborate. "Oh, come on. It's totally obvious that I like you." He clapped a gloved hand over his mouth as soon as the words had escaped his lips.

Bebe looked back at him, something inexplicably ethereal shining in the depths of her crystalline eyes. For a moment, Kyle saw her in her regular body, lips chapped and cheeks flushed from the nippy Colorado wind. "I figured as much when I found this in your jacket yesterday." She had pulled out her own woolen scarf, which he caught deftly when she tossed it to him. "Let me just warn you that if I get the sudden urge to have sex with my own body, I'm going to slip on one of these babies," she said sarcastically, brandishing the box of condoms that was still in her pocket.

"Bebe, that's really nasty…" But Kyle couldn't help but chortle a little in spite of himself.

"But… now we both know that we kinda sorta…" she seemed to gag on the words a little bit as that came out, "_like _each other."

"Basically."

"So what do we do now?"

"I have no freaking clue…"

They spent several minutes in silence. But it wasn't the silence that induced cricket chirping and an atmosphere of awkwardness. Both teenagers weren't looking at each other, but had they shared a glance, they would have seen the identical private grins they were both wearing on their frost bitten faces.

It was a funny little world they lived in, Kyle decided. Even though that was probably the lamest confession in history, he was suddenly overcome with boldness that made him eager to kiss her. He bit his lip when he looked at her out of the corner of his eye, wondering how he still managed to find her so attractive despite her being a male. He would wait, he determined. When they changed back, that would be the first thing he would do.

The snow was still swirling when their mitten-covered hands somehow found each other on the top of the icy log. When their fingers were just barely brushing, Bebe found her voice again. "Actually," she said as though she were about to break some horrible news to him. "I still need to tell you something." She sounded guilty and withdrew her hand to fidget in a manner that reminded Kyle disturbingly of Tweek.

"What?" Kyle asked with a slight note of panic in his voice that caused his throat to constrict. He weighed his options. She could've done one of several things. Maybe she told Wendy, or maybe she told his mom. It was even possible that she did something stupid like eat a BLT sandwich for lunch.

"Oh my god, Kyle, I'm so sorry…"

"What did you do?" He was beginning to get angry again, and his posture showed it.

"I couldn't take it, and I just kinda blurted it out…"

"What?" he asked, becoming anxious.

"I told everyone that I'm – that you're – a girl."

"What?!"

"I-It just happened! I was walking Cartman to the nurse's office, and someone just yelled out some random – "

"Ex_cuse_ me?!"

"I said I was sorry!" And she truly looked it. "I can't take it anymore! We have to tell someone!"

"I told you _specifically_ not to say anything! People already think I'm gay!" Did she honestly have _no_ self-discipline? "And we can't tell anyone! They'll think we're retarded!" he hissed.

"You can tell Stan at least…?" she asked hopefully.

"Pfft, if you want him to think you're crazy, I suppose I could." He neglected to tell her that Stan probably already found her quite loopy.

"Just… just make him figure it out on his own. If you drop enough hints, he should get it, right? He's not completely stupid… Try to be subtle."

"Okay, fine. I'll try."

--

It was like trying to hunt a deer in the middle of a metropolis during rush hour.

Every time Kyle tried to corner Stan on his own during the school day, Wendy or Kenny or Butters would appear out of nowhere and foil his attempts. After being trodden on by Kenny on his way to "borrow" Stan's math homework five minutes before math class, Kyle devised his plan to finally get his friend alone:

It involved an ambush and a broom cupboard.

As Stan was walking from biology to meet Wendy for lunch, an arm reached out of a random janitor's closet and forced him inside with a yelp. "What the hell…?"

"Stan, it's me, Bebe."

"Bebe? What the heck – " he asked, puzzled, eyes only just beginning to adjust to the darkness. "I have to go and meet Wendy for lunch. Can't it wait?"

"Stan, I have to ask you a… personal question."

"Okay?" he answered hesitantly, wondering what the word "personal" entailed.

"What would be the most devastating thing for a guy to lose?" Kyle asked, despite already knowing the answer.

"Wendy?" Stan answered automatically.

"No! I mean guys in general." The Jew rolled his eyes; he'd thought that was a really easy question for any guy to answer, but the way Stan looked at Wendy on a daily basis should have told him otherwise.

He paused. "I suppose I'd be pretty pissed if I lost my nuts or something…"

"Yes! Good! That's good!"

"What? How's that good?"

_Okay… be subtle… _"Look, Stan… I've lost my balls."

"Excuse me?"

_Shoot, that came out wrong. _"What I _meant_ to say is that I'm not what you think I am," Kyle said, willing with all his might for his friend to see past the blond head of hair.

Stan took a few steps back, under the impression that in addition to being relatively unstable, Bebe was also some sort of transvestite. "What in the world are you talking about?!"

"Look at me, damn it!" Kyle grabbed his friend by the collar and forced his face down to eye level until their noses were almost touching.

Stan blinked nervously, knowing that he would lose his ability to father children if Wendy were to conveniently choose that moment to return. But he saw something in Bebe's face that made him falter. At first it was the way her nose seemed to scrunch up at the bridge in a way that reminded him of… "Kyle?" And then Stan noticed in the dimness that her irises were a clear and vibrant green. "Holy shit… Kyle?" His voice cracked. "I knew something was wrong with you! What the hell are you doing hijacking Bebe's body?!"

Kyle immediately released his friend's shirt and shoved him in the chest to re-establish his personal bubble. "You think I _want_ to be a girl?!" he snapped.

The football player shrugged. "I think _every_ guy fantasizes about it at some point." Stan ignored Kyle's girlish scoff. "Dude… you do realize that this means Cartman was right, right? About that stupid theory where people can switch bodies."

Did people get some sort of sexual pleasure by reminding him of this? "I know! But that's not the issue right now! Your best friend's a chick, Stan." Kyle folded his arms and stood in a manner that made one hip jut out to the side. "What?" he asked when Stan let out a snort of laughter.

"Your hips, dude. What the hell are you doing?" He laughed again when Kyle brandished a manicured hand in his face; the image was not at all threatening.

"Well, what do I do, smart ass! Chef told me to ask you for help!"

"Chef? I'm pretty sure he died a long time ago, dude… But, okay!" Stan held his hands out in front of him in self-defense, as Kyle appeared to be grinding his teeth. "I seriously doubt that I can help you change back, but maybe I can do something about all the rumors and everything."

"Okay… Thanks," Kyle said, almost feeling his ears droop in defeat. "Sorry for acting like such a bitch…"

"It's fine. I'd be pissed too. So," Stan said, changing the subject and donning a grin that was reminiscent of the look Kenny got on his face whenever he saw a girl's cleavage. "Have you, you know," he looked Bebe's body up and down, pausing momentarily on her bust. "Did you get a good look?" It was no secret that every guy in the school wanted to rip of Bebe's clothes and take a gander at her rather impressive chest.

"No!" Kyle said defensively.

"Kyle…" Stan said in a voice dripping with the mocking tone of a parent. He raised a disbelieving eyebrow.

"Okay, yeah." A goofy grin spread upon Kyle's face as he said this. "She's so hot, dude."

"Atta boy!" Stan gave his friend a hearty clap on the back that sent the Jew stumbling forward a few steps. Unfortunately, Kyle's foot landed in an empty metal bucket, rendering him backward and off-balance right into Stan. The unexpected impact sent them both toppling to the ground with a large crash as several shelves of cleaning supplies were sent to the floor. "What the hell, Kyle?" Stan demanded angrily.

"It's Bebe's stupid shoes…" Kyle groaned. "God… having breasts freaking sucks!" For the Jew had landed right across Stan's hard chest. "And I'm so fucking _sick _of falling down!"

"Well, get off already!"

"Get your fat arm off my ass, then!"

"Sorry!"

"You know, girls can't handle a thump to the back like that… just for future reference."

"I figured as much."

Both boys experienced a fresh wave of panic when the door flew open and let in a blinding burst of light. "Stan, I thought I heard your – " Wendy Testaburger froze when she beheld the sight before her. She saw Stan, Bebe's body, and their position on the floor, and put together pieces that weren't there.

"Wendy – " both boys began simultaneously.

But she was gone in a whirl of purple fleece and ebony hair before either Kyle or Stan could utter another word.

* * *

**Author's Note: **And the plot thickens... Ooh... JK.I did a little switch-a-roo at the beginning by giving Kyle one of Stan's usual lines, LoL. Hope you don't mind.

Review reply time.

**Waste-o-tron **Haha, thanks for the review. I'd have to say that that was probably one of my more creative jokes about the condoms. Haha.

**Lillyfan123** You don't know how much I appreciate your reviews! And I'm so happy that reading my story influenced your own as well! Sorry if this chapter wasn't up to par with the rest of them, but I sincerely hope you continue to read… _and _write because I love your stories too! xD

**JVM-sp150 **Your comments really made my day. Thank you so much for your honesty. It's something like this that really made me feel like I'm not a complete failure at writing. I'm not really sure what else to say other than that I hope you continue to read!

**Gariand** Again, pretty much the same thing as I said to JVM-sp150… Thank you so much for reading. I know I'm far from perfect as a writer, but your support just makes me want to continue trying.

**TheMarshmallowWizardGhostCookie** Sorry for such a long wait!

**Ceylon **Cartman _did_ get his ass kicked… pretty well, if I do say so myself. Haha. As you can see, things aren't looking up for Kyle and Bebe just yet, LoL. Thanks for your review, and I hope you keep reading.

**XxLoveStanxX** Haha! I wasn't seriously offended. I was just kidding. Haha. But I have to give you props; that was the longest review I've ever seen. Thanks so much! I'm really glad you're liking the story, too, and it cracks me up to read your very enthusiastic reviews!

**celena **I've had this same question in an earlier chapter, so I guess it's a "my bad" for not being more clear. I think I might've mentioned in the beginning of the first chapter that they were all at least in the middle of high school… or I might've just hinted at it (I could be wrong). And the Rebeca thing? I'm not gonna lie, that just kinda came out of nowhere. LoL I guess I just implied that people around the school could tell? I honestly don't know, but I'm glad you like the story so far!


	6. Something of a Resolution

**Author's Note: **Finally… God, I'm so slow. And I'm so sorry. I can't wait until school is over. Gawd…

**Disclaimer:** South Park is not mine… that pretty much goes without saying.

* * *

**Cartman Was Right**

**Chapter 6**

**Something of a Resolution

* * *

**

"Hi! You've reached Wendy Testaburger. I'm not here right now, so – "

"Shit. Shit, shit, _shit_!" Stan let out a groan and hung up his cell phone with a click, having reached Wendy's voicemail for the thirteenth time and finally reaching his demise upon hearing her chipper voice yet again. "Dude, I am so _fucked_..." He ran an exasperated hand through his silky hair, something he'd been doing every few minutes for the last hour and a half.

The Jew really didn't know what to say to him. There he was, Stan Marsh, the toughest person Kyle knew, hunched over his telephone with a lacy pillow clutched protectively against his chest as if he were hoping that Wendy would suddenly appear in his arms. "Stan…" Kyle began hesitantly, for the football player looked as though he were about to burst into man tears. "We can fix it. It's not like she said 'it's over' or anything. I'm sure it'll be – "

"Don't say 'fine'! That's the last thing it is!" Stan found himself immediately presented with a dilemma. Half of him wanted to punch his friend in the face, and the other half was hesitating because he had lived his life thus far based on the idea that a guy should not physically hurt a girl. "What do I _do_?"

Kyle furrowed his brow. He didn't want to say anything too cliché, but… "Just tell her how you feel, dude. Bebe's her best friend, and you're her boyfriend. Wendy's not a bitch. I think she'll listen to you at least. Besides, I bet all she ever hears from you is 'I love you! Muah muah muah!' anyway." Kyle batted his eyelashes and pecked at the thin air, his hands clasped in front of him girlishly.

Stan broke eye contact and the slightest hint of a blush made its way onto his face. He shifted guiltily in his seat, and Kyle didn't miss it. "You never told her?" he asked in disbelief, receiving a look in return that told him that that was indeed the case. "Dude, you wanted to _sleep_ with her, and you never told her? I'm not pretending I'm an expert or anything, but I'm pretty sure that's something you're supposed to say."

"Well, I didn't… and how do _you_ know about that?"

Kyle was tempted to brush it off, but because there were already so many problems in his life, he decided to come clean. "On Wednesday when we had PE… Wendy kinda showed me the," he squirmed a little as he said this, "new underwear she was wearing for your anniversary thing… And, Stan, you really do stare at her a little too often."

"You sneaky little butt hole," Stan said, laughing a little bit.

"What?"

"That's probably the sickest thing I've ever heard of!" By this point, Stan was shaking with silent laughter. "You're like Kenny v2."

"It's not like I had a choice! And if you think about it, that means Bebe was in the guys' locker room staring at you."

"Dude, don't get your panties in a knot." But Stan stopped laughing upon realizing this and changed the subject. He rubbed the back of his neck. "How are you and Bebe, by the way?" he asked as if hoping that he'd be able to forget about Wendy for several minutes by keeping his mind elsewhere.

"What do you mean?" Kyle assumed the answer was obvious: he was a girl, which seemed evidence enough to show that the situation was becoming unbearable for both of them.

"Well, do you guys hate each other, or are you, you know, _together_." He said it as if the word was a death sentence.

"Why're you saying it like that?"

"I really don't think many people can handle her." Stan shrugged. "So, are you?"

Kyle didn't answer for several minutes, wondering why on Earth his best friend was so interested. What were they, anyway? They weren't friends, but they were. They weren't glued at the hip, and yet somehow their lives had become irrevocably intertwined in a complicated web of irony. It was strange and foreign but oddly familiar and secure at the same time. "It's too complicated right now," he answered truthfully.

"So you _are_ an item now!"

"No, I didn't say that. Stop putting words in my mouth."

"Dude, it's totally obvious that you like her. You don't need to keep denying it."

Kyle was normally not one to wear his heart on his sleeve. The thought of sharing his most personal feelings had always left him with a slight feeling of nausea, but he was overcome by the sudden desire to reveal himself to his friend. "I… I'm kinda scared."

"Why?"

Kyle fidgeted and ran a thin hand through the multitude of golden hairs that now resided on the top of his head. "When I told her – "

"You actually told her without even telling _me_ first?!"

"Yeah, Jesus, stop acting like such a girl." Kyle smirked in satisfaction when his friend frowned. "As I was saying… the first thing I wanted to do was – "

"Bang her?"

"No!" Honestly, was he the only one who actually thought with his brain? "And stop interrupting! I wanted to kiss her, stupid. For a second, I just saw _her_ I didn't even care that she was actually _me_."

Stan's face contorted in disgust. "Please tell me you didn't make out with yourself."

Kyle let out a breath that he didn't realize he'd been holding in. "I didn't… but I really wanted to." He paid no attention to the disturbing nature of his comment or the outburst of laughter from his best friend. Instead, he thought about Bebe, his eyes clouding over so that he didn't even notice Stan waving a calloused hand in front of his face.

There had to be some sort of spark there, some sort of indication that he wasn't merely suffering from an overdose of infatuation but rather a genuine attraction that had blossomed since the day he'd met her. The feeling was always there, _really_, only manifesting itself as a mask of dislike. She puzzled, infuriated, and confused him all the time. And yet, the thought of her smile made his heart soar. It _had_ to mean something that Bebe's eyes alone drew him so near as to forget about her recent gender swap, right? It was this fact that scared Kyle shitless, as he had never been subjected to emotions that rendered him incapable of conveying his thoughts or even speaking in a coherent manner. A snap of a thumb and index finger brought him back to Earth. "Huh?"

"You look like you've just gotten high or something."

"Oh, right…"

"What're you – " But Stan was cut off by an impatient ring from his cell phone. Without reading the contact, he answered the phone before the ring tone had to repeat itself. "Wendy?" he asked hopefully, his face falling when the person on the other line spoke. "Oh… Cartman. What do you want?" He rolled his eyes in Kyle's direction. "No… No, Cartman, I just told you – No, fat ass, I'm _not_ going to – Well fine! Screw you, then!" Stan hung up by slamming his flip phone shut. "What a dick…" he mumbled to himself.

"What'd he want?"

"He wanted me to drive all the way over to his house just to prove to his mom that he's taller than me. I think I heard something abut him renting a tux for the dance thing..."

"… That's retarded."

"Seriously. Sometimes I think he's got masculinity issues."

_Oh yeah…_ Kyle still hadn't told Stan about _that_ day. He ultimately decided that the timing was poor and made the mistake of forgetting all about Cartman's tenacity and persistence. "Oh, forget him. Besides, I think you have bigger problems right now. If you don't make up with her, you're kinda screwed for the dance later anyway. Isn't that… this Saturday?"

Stan groaned and covered his face with his hand, having already picked a tux that would compliment Wendy and himself perfectly. "Ugh, you're right… Kyle, what the hell do I say to her? And, I mean, how do I even go about talking to her in the first place? 'Hey, Wendy, it's not what it looks like. Kyle and Bebe switched bodies, so who you really saw was Kyle, not Bebe,'" he said sarcastically. "She'll castrate me in front of everyone! And stop laughing, it isn't funny!"

Kyle took a deep breath and his demeanor finally became serious. "No, you're right. What we _both_ have to do is find Bebe, explain the whole thing to her, and then do the same with Wendy."

"Do you even know where Bebe is?"

"Actually I don't… Usually she makes a point to bother me, but I haven't seen her since yesterday."

--

Bebe was at Claire's in the South Park mall, ignoring whispers of other girls in the store and trying to find some sort of hair brush that could manage to tame the auburn Jew fro perched unfortunately on the top of her head when she saw Wendy rush past the front of the store in a lavender blur. Something about her posture, the way her purple-clad shoulders were hunched over and the vulnerable expression on her face, was enough to tell Bebe that her best friend had been crying. So, she abandoned the girly store and chased after her friend. _Damn, that girl can move! _For Bebe had speed walked all the way down the wing before finding Wendy hiccupping at a table in the food court. She sat down without asking, a habit that had only developed over the last few days, and drummed her fingers on the tabletop.

"Kyle?" Wendy asked with a sniffle, trying to wipe away the tear streaks on her face and only succeeding in making her cheeks look more red and puffy than ever.

"Wendy, what're you doing here?"

She was given an unexpected response.

Wendy slammed her fist on the table with so much force that Bebe recoiled and nearly fell out of her chair. "Bebe… she…" she said quietly, her eyes downcast. "SHE'S SUCH A _SLUT_!"

"WHAT THE _HELL_ ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?!" It was difficult to say which girl had yelled louder, because their table was suddenly attracting the attention of everyone else in the proximity.

But Wendy seemed inconsolable and incoherent and simply put her head down on her arms and sobbed her heart out. It was a pitiful sight that pulled at Bebe's heart just a little bit; the tenacious Wendy Testaburger was breaking down and letting her eyeliner run right in public view. She hadn't cried since Bush's reelection several years ago.

"Wendy, what happened?" Bebe laid a comforting hand on her friend's back.

"I saw Bebe and Stan with each other!" she blubbered.

"Oh, God…" Bebe almost felt a light bulb go on above her head as realization dawned. It didn't take a genius to figure out that one of the two boys had done something stupid. "That bitch…" she muttered to herself.

"Did Bebe seduce you too?"

"No. No, no, no. We're kinda… you know." She finished with a fruity flourish of her hand.

"Oh!" Wendy gasped. "So it _is_ true then? I was always under the impression that there was some sort of sexual tension between you and Cartman."

"Cartman?" The idea was repugnant in itself without having to imagine it. At least the conversation was wandering away from Stan.

"Yeah, well, he always looks like he wants to eat you."

"Uh… EWIE!" It came out as a squeal that made Wendy snort with laughter through her congestion.

"That wasn't girly at all," she said. "Kyle… I think we need to hang out. I don't wanna think about guys right now."

"Oh, totally! There's this guy who's been getting on _my_ nerves lately, too," Bebe answered without thinking, forgetting that she was in Kyle's body. "He never tells me what he's thinking, and I don't even know what he thinks of _me_!" She shut up instantly and her eyes widened. She put her fist down on an upturned palm. "I know just what you need."

"What's that?"

"Just come on. We're going to your house." With that, Bebe pulled Wendy behind her, and the two of them walked the short distance to Wendy's cul-de-sac. Twenty minutes later, the two girls were sitting on the couch together, wrapped in a quilt, each holding a large bowl of chocolate ice cream, and watching _Pride and Prejudice_.

"Seriously," Bebe said through a mouthful of dairy product. "When you need your faith in men restored, this'll do it for you. Oh my gosh!" she exclaimed, tapping Wendy on the arm impatiently. "I love this part! I can just _feel _the tension!" Both girls let out identical contented sighs as they watched Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy share a brief glance after he had held her hand to help her board the coach at Netherfield. It was a scene that almost made them both swoon.

"I can't believe I've never seen this movie," Wendy said, staring at the television monitor. She was so enraptured that she missed her mouth with her spoon when she tried to eat her ice cream.

"Neither can I. But, you know, guys like that really don't exist. Mr. Darcy is simply…" Bebe put her hand over her heart, "_the_ original Prince Charming."

Wendy followed suit and rested a delicate hand on Bebe's orange jacket as well, causing her to whip around with a spoon in her mouth; it was a rather comical sight. "Kyle, you're such a sensitive guy… unlike stupid, manly _Stan_." She smiled softly, her eyes shining, and Bebe noticed that it was the same private grin she usually wore for her aforementioned boyfriend.

With that disconcerting notion fresh in her mind, Bebe pretended to adjust her position on the couch to one that was more comfortable, pulling her arm out of Wendy's grasp in the process. "You don't mean that. You're mad for him."

"Not anymore…"

"Yes you are. I see the way you guys look at each other. He's head over heels, Wendy, he'd swim across the ocean to see you smile." Bebe knew damn well that that was probably the stupidest and most cliché thing she'd ever said.

Wendy didn't think so. "That's so sweet. See, I wish Stan would say those things to me!" Once again she looked as though she were on the verge of tears. "But he never _told_ me… and now he's off kissing someone else…"

"I know this'll be hard to believe… but that's seriously impossible." Having finished her ice cream, Bebe tipped the bowl to her mouth and shoveled the melted contents down her throat. When she put the bowl down there was a small smudge of ice cream on her nose.

Wendy giggled girlishly.

"Hm?"

"Nothing… you just look really cute like that." She moved a bit closer, causing Bebe to go rigid in her seat. "Did I ever tell you how pretty your eyes are? I don't really remember them being blue…"

Bebe knew her best friend well enough to know that her behavior was not based upon rational thought but rather the sense of abandonment that came with being betrayed by Stan. Nevertheless, it was still very uncomfortable. "Okay, woah." Bebe made a face and slid to the opposite end of the sofa so as to prevent the situation from becoming any more awkward. "Look, Wendy… no offense, but I'm really not interested in you. I'm not actually interested in girls at all." She mentally slapped herself after saying that; she _was_ technically a guy still, for Christ's sake.

"You seem interested in Bebe. Are you saying that she's a guy?" Wendy joked.

Bebe nearly laughed at the irony of her friend's question. "Well…"

Just then, the door, which both of them had forgotten to lock, burst open as Stan and Kyle forced their way in from the wind. "Wendy!" Stan gasped, panting and out of breath.

On the other hand, Wendy's beautiful face showed no sign of emotion, as her smile had been wiped clean off to leave her looking somewhat deadened and frail. "Get out."

"Look, it was all a huge misunderstanding," he said directly, willing silently for her to listen. "We're not really – "

"Stan, get out of my house!" Wendy stood up, and the blanket slid off of her, sending the empty ice cream bowls to the floor with a clatter. She looked as though she wanted nothing more than Stan and Kyle's – technically Bebe's – heads to be mounted on her wall like trophies; Kyle thought he Stan reach for his neck as though thinking the same thing.

"No, Wendy, I need to – "

"All _three_ of us need to tell you something!" Kyle interrupted, gesturing urgently to himself, Stan, and Bebe.

"Get OUT!" The saying, "hell hath no fury like a woman scorned," was an understatement. Wendy hurled the remote control and her empty ceramic bowl at Stan's head with as much force as she could muster (it was enough to send him staggering back a few paces) and ran toward the staircase with every intention of barricading herself in her bedroom behind the Persian army that was her anger.

Bebe rounded on Stan and Kyle as soon as they heard Wendy's door slam. "What did you guys _do_? She told me Stan did something stupid… but honestly!" Her eyes lingered a little longer on Stan and surveyed him quizzically.

"It's okay, he knows, Bebe."

"That doesn't explain why my best friend is crying her eyes out… over _you_!" Bebe pointed an accusing finger at Stan, her eyes narrowed maliciously. It would've been an intimidating picture had there not been a smear of chocolate ice cream on the tip of her nose.

"Oh, stop it." Kyle swatted her arm away. "And wipe your nose already." Bebe rubbed clumsily at her face. "It's not a big deal, really. I just _happened_ to fall over Stan in the broom cupboard, and Wendy caught us – "

"And now she thinks I'm a slut," she said, cutting him off. "Oh, way to go, Broflovski!"

"It was _your_ idea to tell Stan!"

"It wasn't my idea to lock him in a broom cupboard! Who _does_ that?"

"I can name several." Cartman's name was on the top of that list.

"But why did you fall on him?! Even if you're in a girl's body, the idea of two guys on top of each other is just nasty!"

"I tripped thanks to your – "

"You guys, stop it! This isn't helping!" Once again, Stan was tempted to shove them away from each other, but he didn't want to be accused of being a woman-beater, which seemed like something Bebe would say. "Come on." With that, the three of them went up to Wendy's room, where they were met with a locked door. Stan knocked on it several times with a heavy fist. "Wendy?" he asked hesitantly.

No response.

"Here, let me try." Kyle stepped past Stan. "Wendy, it's Kyle." He didn't get an answer either, though he suspected she had her ear pressed right to the door on the other side. "Yeah, it's Kyle." He supposed it would be easier to just say it. "I'm _not_ Bebe. I know you're not gonna believe a word of this, but me and Bebe actually switched bodies."

Bebe built upon the story with added confidence. "Remember that time we ran into each other in the hallway? That's when it happened. I've been a _boy_ ever since…"

There was more heavy silence for several minutes.

Then the door cracked open, and a boiling brown eye peered through the small gap. It was narrowed suspiciously, but they were no longer spilling tears. Bebe and Kyle shoved Stan away impatiently to prevent him from saying something to disrupt the delicate situation, as he had never been the most eloquent even if he had noble intentions.

"Wendy… look at me," Kyle said, pointing into his face and getting close enough to the door so that she could see the flecks of green in his irises.

All of a sudden, the door flew open, and Wendy smacked Kyle directly on the cheek before anyone could react. "You pervert!"

There was a glowing handprint on his face. "Dude! Wha – ?"

"I un_dressed_ in front of you!" Wendy had re-emerged and wrapped her arms around herself as if afraid that his eyes could see through her clothes. "And _you_ let him see!" she yelled at Bebe, who was shaking her head so enthusiastically that her hat spun around on her head. "And _why_ in the world would you be lying on top of Stan, Kyle? If you're both guys… _technically_… And I'm so confused…" she trailed off, hurt still etched on her face. At least she'd stopped yelling. "Is this some sort of sick joke?! Are you _trying _to make me look stupid?!"

Obviously someone had spoken too soon.

"No, that's not – "

"Because if you _are_ cheating on me, Stan, please don't insult my intelligence, at least! Own up to it!"

"Stan," Kyle nudged his friend in the ribs as Wendy continued her angry rant, beginning to pace irritably like a lioness stalking its prey.

"I'm not just some dumb girl, asshole! Don't _fuck_ with me!"

"What, Kyle?" Stan whispered out of the corner of his mouth.

"Tell her," the Jew muttered in response.

"If it's over, just say so! And then you and Bebe can just go on and be happy together without _me_ to butt in anymore!"

"Tell her what?"

"You know," Kyle urged, continuing to nudge and spare glances at the raving girl meandering in circles on the landing; it was truly a staggering sight.

"Well, Stan? What's your answer?!" Wendy put her hands on her hips and stopped her aimless walking. She was positively livid.

Stan faltered for a few minutes but took a step forward when Kyle gave him a swift kick behind the knees. Despite his physical superiority to her, Stan felt rather weak and vulnerable as he warily eyed her seething form. Shaking from his toes to the tips of his fingertips, he grasped her shoulders tenderly and pressed a chaste kiss to her lips. He took it as a good sign when she didn't rear back and knock out a few of his teeth. "Wendy Testaburger…" He knelt on the floor in a manner strangely reminiscent of a proposal and took her hand in his. He stroked her palm tenderly with the pad of his thumb and gained confidence when he felt her relax. "I know this is hard for you to believe. I know I do a lot of stupid things. I know you get irrational sometimes – no, _all _the time – " She scoffed when he said this – "and I didn't think in a million years that this is how I'd tell you, but… I love you. So so much. I would _never… ever_ hurt you."

Wendy's lip quivered, and her eyes welled up with tears as he said this. They finally broke through the barrier of her resolve when her mind registered the pure honesty of his declaration. By the time she realized that he'd confessed his love for her, she was incapable of speaking. Choking on a sob, she all but threw herself at him and wrapped her arms tightly around his neck, sending them both falling softly backward onto the carpet. When Wendy sniffled and wiped away the last of her tears, she allowed Stan to kiss her, first softly on each cheek where he tasted the salty remains of saline, and then on her lips where she responded pleasantly with a soft sigh and a flutter of eyelids as they slid shut.

"They are _so_ perfect together!" Bebe whispered loudly to Kyle, who was standing next to her with a face that indicated potential "upchuck" right onto the carpet. He noticed with horror that Wendy had now fully pressed herself against her boyfriend, whose hand was slowly making its way under her sweater…

"Okay, stop!" Kyle yelled loudly, and the couple on the floor promptly broke apart, both flaming in the face. "Jesus Christ, you guys, exhibit some self-control, will ya? At least wait until we get outta here," he said angrily, glaring as he watched his best friend gather his composure.

"Sorry," Stan grunted in embarrassment, rubbing the back of his neck and avoiding making eye contact with anyone. Wendy merely coughed and looked away.

Kyle rolled his eyes. "So, is everything cool now?"

"Yeah," Wendy responded, her voice hitched about an octave too high. "I don't know…"

"What?"

"I'm still not sure I really believe you guys. I mean, that would mean Cartman was right again, right?"

Bebe laughed humorlessly and frowned in annoyance with a roll of her blue eyes, and Kyle pinched his nose. "Can you not remind me, please?" At that moment, Kyle hated even the bacteria that resided on Cartman's teeth.

Wendy giggled and just laced her fingers with Stan. Stan, on the other hand seemed eager to get the other two to leave, and after a hasty goodbye, Kyle and Bebe found themselves out in the cold.

"What a horny little bugger…" Kyle stared in disbelief at the door behind him.

"Wendy too. I reckon they would've done it right on the floor if you hadn't said anything." The two of them stood in comfortable silence for several moments before somehow agreeing to head home.

"And about Cartman, Kyle…" Bebe said during their trek. "It's not your fault. Shit like this doesn't happen to normal people," she offered, trying her best to say something helpful. "On the other hand…" she said after getting a disbelieving glare. "It all worked out! Stan and Wendy are better than ever!"

"Bebe… don't say 'it all worked out' until we're back in our own bodies."

"Yeah, yeah. Okay… You don't have to be such a Debbie downer."

"But you're right… about Stan and Wendy, I mean." Kyle raised a hand in an expectant high five, and Bebe smacked it soundly enough to leave a red mark. "We rule… I guess."

"Kyle? I've been meaning to ask you this for a while."

"Huh?"

"Come to the dance with me?"

"Okay." He didn't bother hiding his grin.

Bebe clasped her hands together under her chin and batted her eyelashes, ignoring Kyle when he warned her to stop. "That means we need to buy you a dress, then."

"What?!"

* * *

**Author's Note:** Stendy? Yeah, that's right. Ya gotta love 'em too. Thanks for reading!

**JVM-150** Thanks for continuing to read. It really means a lot!

**Lillyfan123** I always love reading your reviews; they never fail to inspire me to write. I'm so glad you liked the last chapter even though it was a little slow.

**Waste-o-tron** I'm so glad you're enjoying the story! And yeah, this story is essentially centered on awkwardness in every possible way, haha.

**ReadingReallyLate **I'm so glad you like it so far! And I'm even happier that you think the plot works out. Honestly, I thought this would be epic fail before I wrote it. Thanks again!

**Ceylon** Thank you so much for the review. Personally, I think the last chapter (and this one even) is too dramatic. But I thought it was necessary to get things out in the open? Haha, but I'm glad you like it.

**XxLoveStanxX** I'm glad you liked it even though (as I said) it was a terribly slow chapter. I really hope you liked the Stendy in this one. ;)


	7. How To Cope

**Author's Note:** Wow… all I can say is that I'm really sorry for taking about a decade to update. I don't have an excuse other than writer's block really. I started writing and realized I was cramming too much into one chapter… That's the short version. The good news is that this means there's already a good chunk of the next chapter complete. Yay? And I think this chapter is a little longer than previous ones, though that doesn't really make up for such a long wait…

I'm also really glad that so many people like the _Pride and Prejudice_ scene in the previous chapter… If you couldn't already tell, that's my all-time favorite romance story, and when I'm feeling particularly down about my love life, my friends and I watch it together. xD It's actually a very uplifting experience, and I highly recommend it if you haven't seen it yet.

**Disclaimer:** If I owned South Park, the episode "Clubhouses" probably would've ended differently. ;)

* * *

**Cartman Was Right**

**Chapter 7**

**How To Cope

* * *

**

Kyle went home, made himself a ham sandwich, knowing full well that he'd probably pay for it later by spending an eternity in hell; he just couldn't being himself to care.

He had an interesting dream that night.

He was with Bebe… only they weren't each other anymore. There was a lot of blue sky and the wide expanse of a field, which was looked upon from a grassy knoll, but all he seemed to vividly remember was the positively stunning hues of her eyes that put the atmosphere to shame.

He took her hand, and it felt so soft that it was one of those instances in which Kyle really couldn't find words to do the sensation justice.

The next thing he remembered were her lips, precious and full like the petals of a rosa canina. They were so close that he could see the tiny mole that was just visible at the corner of her mouth. Something inside him ached as he saw the dewdrops on her eyelashes as they slid shut and a sense of urgency took over.

Then his phone rang.

He fumbled about in dreamland for several minutes, turning his pockets inside out trying to find it. All the while, Bebe waited impatiently with puckered lips, slowly becoming more rotund until she turned into the fat German Eric Cartman, who responded with a sneer and began to sprout several unsightly tentacles from his back that began to wrap themselves around Kyle's throat –

Kyle sat up in bed so fast that he nearly gave himself whiplash. A bead of cold sweat rolled down lazily between his eyes as he took several steadying breaths. He told himself in a mantra that it was just a dream, and that Eric Cartman was all the way on the other side of town.

It took him a few moments to realize that his cell phone actually was vibrating on his nightstand and was wailing "Don't Stop Believin'" so loudly that he was surprised Bebe's parents hadn't banged on the wall from the adjacent room to tell him to shut up. With a glance at the digital clock, which read something along the lines of "two in the morning," he flipped the phone open and rammed it to the side of his head, hitting himself in the eye before actually getting situated. "'Lo?" he asked groggily.

"Kyle?"

He only had to hear that one tentative word to know who was calling. "Bebe?" he asked gently. "It's two in the freaking morning. Why are you even awake?" Her tenacity never ceased to amaze him.

"I couldn't sleep."

Kyle honestly didn't understand how that was possible. "How come?"

"I was thinking about Stan and Wendy."

"Oh…?" He didn't understand why such old news was worth waking someone up for.

"And I can't help but wonder… what if we don't change back, Kyle?"

The Jew couldn't follow her logic in relating two very different issues. Then again, he was so disoriented that he couldn't even remember his own name at the moment. He sighed heavily and rubbed his eyes with his knuckles. "Bebe… don't think about it like that. It'll work out," he said, though he didn't sound to sure himself since she had just voiced his deepest concern.

"But…" she said so quietly that he almost didn't hear her.

"'But' what?"

"What if I can't have what Wendy has?"

_What does Wendy have… other than a boyfriend who would rather eat rusty nails than leave her?_ "I seriously doubt you'll have any trouble getting some guy to like you." He supposed it was probably best to just listen to her talk… even if he was tuning out the majority of what was said due to physical fatigue. She suddenly whispered something that made his head snap up at attention.

"I don't want someone else…" Kyle could almost feel the heat radiating off her face from her blush, and his heart skipped a beat. "I just don't want to like you _this_ way…"

Kyle thought he only imagined hearing her words and had to shake his head to make sure he was really awake and hadn't slipped back into another dream. She never failed to surprise him… even if she was bonkers. He decided to voice his opinion that, "Girls think too much."

"And _you _think too little."

"Thank you."

"I wasn't complimenting you."

"I know."

There was silence on the other line for several moments, but it was glowing with affection. "I don't get you."

"That's okay. Just… try not to worry too much. I know the idea of making out with yourself is kinda gross, but – "

"I didn't say anything about making out!"

He made a face. "Really? I could've sworn that you…"

"I think you're still managing to think with your… _man parts_, Kyle."

"But you _just_ said – "

"Shit, I think your mom's coming down the hallway. I gotta go."

"Okay… and Bebe?"

"What?" she whispered impatiently.

For some reason the romantic and uplifting speech he had prepared in his mind had turned to Jell-O and settled itself in the pit of his stomach. "Nothing."

She didn't seem to believe him. "You know you can tell me anything, right? Are you sure there's nothing?"

Kyle thought about the knot of all his doubts that had been eating him from the inside out, his sickening fear of being hurt by taking a go at a relationship, his fear of being female forever, and even the trivial issue of his inability to comfortably sleep on his front. "Nope, nothing," he lied, sure that Bebe could hear it in his voice.

There was a pregnant pause. "Okay, I'll see you in the morning then. 'Night." Then he heard the line click.

He snuggled back into Bebe's purple comforter feeling a little bit disturbed, but in the privacy of his blankets, he smiled secretly to himself; Bebe had decided to call _him_. The moment of happiness was disturbed when his phone let out another persistent wail, allowing the voice of Steve Perry to again drill itself into his brain. He picked it up without even opening his eyes. "What?!" he hissed in annoyance.

"Oh, uh… it's Wendy." She sounded a little afraid.

"Wendy?" he croaked. "What the – why the _hell_ is everyone still awake?"

"I always call Bebe in the middle of the night," she replied in her velvet voice, as if expecting Kyle to have swallowed the "Girl Manual" and therefore every bit of unspoken girl code. "But I didn't have her – er, _your_ – phone number… and I just got a great idea."

"What's that?" he asked, wondering what could possibly be more important than getting eight hours of sleep.

"You and I need to go shopping tomorrow."

_Is she serious?! _"For what?"

"Oh, come on. For your dress, of course! Don't tell me you already forgot all about that!"

Actually, Kyle hadn't given it a second thought since getting home. He could picture the stern expression on her face as if reprimanding him for skimming the chapter of the "Girl Manual" that described the shopping protocols. "'Course not…?"

"Okay. Meet me after school in the parking lot. I'll drive us to the mall."

"Mm."

"Was that an 'okay'?"

"Mm-hm." Before she could retaliate with another question, Kyle had hung up the phone and hit his pillow with a snore.

--

Not really in the mood to be pissed off early in the morning by Ms. Crabtree, Kyle woke up earlier than normal, inhaled a bagel, and walked to school, ignoring the icy wind and lack of sunshine. When he arrived, there were still fifteen minutes before the bell would signal the start of class. He went to Bebe's locker to grab his math book, and when he closed the metal door with a clang, he found himself face-to-face with none other than Eric Cartman, who seemed to have materialized right beside him out of thin air. _Correction… "fat air." _"Oh," Kyle said calmly, although his heart was hammering unpleasantly in his chest. "It's _you_." He said it as though the word brought a soapy taste to his mouth. "What d'you want, fat ass?"

"Ha ha," Cartman remarked sarcastically. The smile he wore gave the impression of having eaten an entire cake all by himself and then gloating about it. "You can say whatever you want, but we'll see who's going to have the last laugh." His eyes were shining in a way that promised trouble, and Kyle half expected him to pull out a mallet to deal a sharp smack to the side of the head.

"What are you talking about?" Kyle asked warily, prepared to run at the slightest hint of danger.

"I'm talking about the Jew, ho. What else? And apparently, news travels very fast around here."

"I still don't know what you're talking about."

"Check out the school newspaper." With that, Cartman whipped out a fresh copy of "The Daily Bovine" and brandished the title page right under Kyle's nose.

The Jew read the headline aloud in disgust. "'South Park Scandal: Our Favorite Jew, the Cutest Couple, and the Blond… Who Should Date Who?'" Beneath the title was a collage of images containing pictures of the four friends, including the oh-so-famous picture of Kyle and Bebe together in the locker room shower. "What the hell is this?!" Kyle asked in outrage.

"Oh, you know… it's just the news," Cartman explained pompously as he took pleasure in watching Kyle's hands shake as he continued to flip through the pages. "Rebecca just couldn't ignore something as thought-provoking as this, especially when the most interesting thing that happens around here is a shortage of erasers. You know how she is."

"I know her well enough to know she's a total loon!" Kyle nearly choked on his fury as he forced himself to read again from the article. "'Meet the busty, beautiful, bouncy blond who has captured the heart of our dearest kosher intellectual and unexpectedly seduced him to the point of purchasing condoms for a little late night fun.'" The picture of Bebe shown beside the caption was not flattering in the slightest; she was presumably asleep at a slumber party, and the other partygoers had drawn a mustache on her face with what appeared to be toothpaste. "This is complete garbage!"

"Oh-ho, moody much! Did you go to the beach and get a little sand in your vagina?"

"I don't have sand in my vagina! And there are no beaches in Colorado!"

Cartman ignored him resolutely and gestured again toward the offensive material. "Anyway… this was merely Rebecca's attempt at revenge," the German stated matter-of-factly.

Kyle blinked. "Revenge?" he repeated. "What revenge? And stop acting like you know some sort of big secret that I don't, fat ass!" he added when he saw his nemesis polish his knuckles on the front of his jacket.

Cartman simply rose up and rolled back onto the balls of his feet several times, his boots squeaking against the linoleum flooring. "Kahl turned her down, and this her way of making you look like a – what was that word you used? – oh, yeah… a _loon_, Bebe."

Kyle flipped the newspaper shut and stared helplessly again at the front page. He saw with a feeling of being personally violated that there was also a picture of himself and Stan in the closet. He was tempted to ask Cartman how the hell he managed to take it and print it, but he knew better than to ask. "Shit…" he muttered under his breath. "Do you have nothing better to do than ruin everyone's reputation?"

The question went unacknowledged. "You missed the best part!" Cartman was positively radiating with glee as he yanked the paper out of Kyle's girlish hands and all but ripped it open again to page four. "Take a look at this." His voice had that annoying air of triumph that made Kyle want to gut him like a fish.

With a twitch of his upper lip, the Jew glanced down at the block of text and saw the usual poll and result that the newspaper published in every issue. "'Who Should – "

" – Date Who.' That's right, Bebe." But Kyle didn't squirm in his skin until Cartman spoke again. "And if you look closely, you'll see that the option of 'Kahl and Cartman' is winning at forty-four percent. Suck it, bitch! Come Saturday, his scrawny little ass will be all mine." The fat German let out a booming laugh that made several freshmen hide in their lockers.

Kyle, however, crumpled the newspaper and threw it so that it bounced right between Cartman's eyes before falling harmlessly to the floor. "This doesn't mean jack, you idiot. Why do you even like him? You hate Jews!"

The German appeared to be calculating his response. "Well, he's got the hottest ass in town. I would totally tap that!" Cartman made an uncharacteristic spanking motion in midair that caused several innocent bystanders to raise their eyebrows.

Said Jew was forced to bite his tongue to prevent one of his usual retaliations from spilling out of his mouth. What the hell was it about other peoples' fascination with his rear? He'd have to remember to do the nineties thing and tie his jacket around his hips before leaving the house. Nevertheless, the fact that the fat German still spoke about him as though he was a piece of meat made his insides boil. "You know what, Cartman?" He spat bitterly, waiting for the usual twitch of the head that signaled him to continue. "You can't _force_ someone to like you. Did you ever think about what _Kyle_ wants?"

Eric stood dumbly for several moments, and Kyle actually had the impression that he was considering his words carefully. "Why the hell would I do that?"

_Unbelievable._

"You're such a dumb shit!" Kyle yelled, pushing past the overweight teenager with as much force as a sixteen-year-old girl could muster. He felt a bit silly for stalking off so haughtily, but he was seriously reaching his limits with that misled child. Seriously… who was a jerk to some they… _wanted_?

With seven minutes before the bell, Kyle zipped Bebe's backpack and headed into the classroom. As soon as he entered, he caught Bebe's eye, and she beckoned him over with a wave. "Morning," Kyle grumbled as he sidled in next to her. He was tempted to make a jab at her being early for once, but he figured that it was too early to be arguing.

"Good morning," she answered with a wide smile.

"No, I said 'morning.' I didn't say anything about it being good," he replied, though the sight of Bebe's crystalline eyes made him forget about Cartman for a minute. She didn't say anything. "What?"

Without warning, she wrapped her arms around him in what he supposed was supposed to be a friendly hug. Kyle, however, couldn't help but feel a bit awkward as he tentatively patted his own body on the back. Public affection had never been very kind to him.

"What was that for?" he asked suspiciously once she pulled away. To him, the idea of "hugging for the hell of it" didn't seem like something normal people did.

"It's just… thank you for talking to me last night. It really… calmed me down." She grinned at him again.

"Don't mention it." He didn't think it was fair to ruin her morning by telling her about the story circulating through the halls at that very moment. So, he left her alone and brooded in his chair until Stan walked into class hand-in-hand with Wendy. Kyle snorted at the sight, and Stan took it as a cure to take a seat next to him. It was an action that caused an outbreak of whispering.

Stan apparently noticed this as well. He leaned over his desk to whisper to his best friend, "Dude… did you see the paper?" he asked as the bell rang, and the rest of the class filed in.

Kyle had a sneaking suspicion that they had all been whispering about him right outside the door. "Yeah," he answered sharply as Mr. Garrison proceeded to write something on the chalkboard. "That fat piece of crap made me read it. I swear to God, if someone doesn't – "

"Bebe! Are you paying attention?" Mr. Garrison's Southern accent invaded Kyle's thoughts rudely.

"Yes."

"Then what did I just say?"

"Uh… you said that… uh… even though Taylor Swift's single 'Teardrops on My Guitar' reached number two on the U.S. Billboard Hot Country Songs, she's still a wannabe country pop artist because none of her songs have anything about dogs and trucks in the same sentence."

Mr. Garrison paused to consider, tapping his chalk on the bottom of his chin. "Well, I guess you were paying attention then."

"Woah, dude! How'd you know?" Stan asked in awe as soon as their teacher turned his back on the class.

"I just guessed."

"That was a hell of a guess." The football player sounded impressed.

"It's not that impressive, we've been doing it since third grade."

"This is true…"

--

Kyle was the last of four to enter the cafeteria for lunch. He joined Bebe, Stan, and Wendy for lunch and managed to ignore the onslaught of laughs and scoffs that seemed to follow him around wherever he went.

"Hey, Kyle," Bebe greeted jovially to which he responded with a raised hand. "We were just talking about stupid things Stan has done in the past."

"Hey!" Stan retorted. "Yesterday wasn't stupid! Right, Wendy?"

Wendy let out a contented sigh as she relived their encounter yesterday. "That was the most romantic thing Stan's ever done for me since that time he played 'Shock the Monkey' outside my window," she told Bebe with a dreamy look in her eye.

Kyle snorted into his pudding and the black-haired girl angrily threw a napkin at his face. "Thanks," he snickered, wiping the confection off of his nose.

"Honestly… why are guys so immature?"

With an exaggerated flourish of his hand, Kyle gestured to the two protruding lumps on his chest. "I'm a girl, sweetheart."

But Wendy reached across the table with an impatient hand and swatted his hand down. "Oh, stop it. Someone's gonna see you."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm just gonna throw away some of this garbage. Anyone need me to chuck anything for 'em?" Bebe handed him her entire tray. "What, are you going somewhere?" he asked her.

"Actually, yeah. I've got detention to make up, remember?"

"It's nothing less than you deserve for getting into a fight with Clyde," Wendy snapped sternly.

"Says the girl who beat Cartman to a bloody pulp." Stan poked his girlfriend in the ribs, but she ignored him, scowling.

"Yeah… so I'll see you guys later, right?" And Bebe departed to the counselor's office with a little wave.

Kyle watched her leave and then looked back at the couple that was holding hands and giving each other death glares. "Try not to kill each other while I throw this stuff away."

The cafeteria was a funny little place. It was like a whole world shoveled into one, bacteria-ridden room. Somehow it was able to contain all the drama, romance, friendships, and stress of school without the actual school. It was the one place every student had in common, so chances were that one would run into someone with whom they got along with very poorly.

Kyle was throwing away the garbage from his lunch when he heard the familiar voices of several boys from around the corner.

"Dude, don't!" said a voice that the Jewish boy recognized as Token's.

"What's the big deal," another voice hissed. "I know I broke up with her, but you can totally tell that she wants me. I mean, c'mon, who _wouldn't_? And don't overreact, dude. I'm just gonna… get a little poontang during the dance on Saturday. Did you read Rebecca's article? Bebe's such a whore that I doubt she'll have any trouble giving it up anyway."

If the events of the morning made him dislike the rest of the male population, then this moment made him want to castrate them all to prevent the spread of a disease called "idiocy."

Kyle forgot that the school lunch trays weren't disposable and slammed his so forcefully into the trashcan that he sprayed apple juice and debris from several other trays all over his face. He strutted around the corner and threw an apple core at his offender, and it didn't miss its target: right at Clyde's forehead.

"What that – " The brown-haired boy looked lost for a moment, but he regained his composure when he saw Kyle standing in front of him. "Bebe?! What the hell?!"

"You are _such _an asshole, Clyde!" Kyle yelled angrily as his prey removed pulp from his bangs.

"What're you – "

"'I'm just gonna get a little poontang'…? 'Bebe's such a whore'…?" He used his fingers to make quotation marks in the air. "Don't tell me you seriously didn't think anyone wouldn't hear that!"

"Uh…" Clearly he hadn't expected anything of the sort. Clyde yanked on Token's sleeve, but the African American mumbled something about wanting to be left out of it. Without help, Clyde was utterly tactless. "Come one, babe," he said, trying and failing to be a suave as Cary Grant. "You know you're just trying to attract attention to yourself… _my_ attention. You're not fooling anyone. The newspaper committee caught you, and I'm willing to take you back despite everything that's happened. Whadda ya say, hot stuff? Won't you let me show you a good time?"

Kyle was livid, and suddenly it didn't matter that Clyde was a good six inches taller than he was, or that his football muscles were flexing menacingly underneath the sleeves of his Letterman jacket. Without warning, he launched his girl frame at the brown-haired boy and delivered a well-aimed punch right to his jaw.

Clyde's surprise caught him off-guard, and he stumbled against the nearest wall while Kyle punched him yet again, this time in the stomach. "Don't make me kill you!" he yelled, nearly foaming at the mouth with rage.

By then, the small skirmish had begun to catch the eyes of several others in the cafeteria, among which included Stan and Wendy, who weren't sure whether to intervene or not.

Token had retreated, leaving his best friend alone to deal with the wrath of his ex-girlfriend. "Get off me!" Without meaning to, Clyde stuck out an elbow to try to get Kyle to stop his assault, but a yelp told him that he'd hit his offender in the face. Immediately, the blows to the head subsided, and he was left staring at Kyle, who had a shaking hand cupped over his left eye. "Hey… are you okay?" He reached out a hand to try to pull his away from Bebe's face, but Kyle recoiled in disgust.

"You stay away from me!" he ordered with a dirty scowl. "I don't want anything to do with you!" With that said, the Jew stalked away with a slightly bruised ego. He left the cafeteria with the slam of a door. Upon gingerly touching the bruise above his eye, he realized that the best idea would probably be to head to Nurse Gollum's office for an ice pack while he nursed his wounded self-esteem.

It was just one of those days when the whole world decided to turn and give Kyle a sharp kick behind the knees. At least, that was what he told himself. He hadn't realized just how much drama tended to follow Bebe around. As a generally solitary being, all the sudden publicity had turned his life into a living hell, the sort of life portrayed on soap operas or sitcoms, but never in reality. He should've known that would happen to a girl who chose to get involved in with the jock squad and the nerd squad all in within the course of a few days. He couldn't talk to Stan about it. If there was one thing he'd learned, it was that women could not communicate with men in way that made them understand the annoying things called "feelings." Truthfully, Kyle didn't know how much more of it he could take… and it hadn't even been a week.

_Shit happens,_ he told himself firmly, trying the best he could to shed some positive light on his dismal situation. _It just… happens to you a little bit more since you've got a vagina now._ He actually realized that Cartman's usual "vagina comment" did actually have some relevance. The slap in the face was realization that when that prod was made in the past, Kyle had never denied having one, only that there wasn't sand in it. "God damn it!" he said aloud. There was the cherry on top of the shit sundae that had suddenly become his life.

_At least it can't get any worse…_

Unfortunately for him, the very person who he wanted to avoid walked out of the nurse's office in front of him. "Hey, Kyle," Bebe said casually with a wince.

She obviously hadn't noticed the state of his face. Kyle took it as a good sign and continued to try to mislead her. "What happened to you?"

"Oh, well it's kinda embarrassing, actually. I accidentally went into he girls' bathroom and Nellie saw me. She called me gay – " Kyle shot her an extremely miffed look at this point. " – threw a toilet paper roll at me, and shoved me into an open stall. I hurt my head a little… but that's about it."

"Ouch," he said without any inflection.

"Yeah, well… that's life. What're you gonna do?" She was doing an uncharacteristically fine job keeping a positive outlook on things. "So what are you – Jesus Christ, what happened to your eye?"

"Is it that bad?"

"It's... well…" Bebe pulled out a flowery mirror from her coat pocket and held it up so Kyle could get a good look at the damage. His eyebrow was almost unrecognizable, as a great purple lump had begun to form underneath the skin. "What happened?"

"Nothing…" he said, trying to seem nonchalant. "Hey, did anyone tell you – "

"About the school paper?" she finished knowingly. "Yeah, it was posted on the wall of the girls' bathroom. Don't tell me you tried to take on the entire newspaper committee by yourself!"

"No, that's not it… Nevermind," he said, spinning on his hell and striding away before she could say anything. But she wasn't stopped and continued to follow him through the halls.

"Kyle!" Bebe yelled in frustration. "Stop beating around the bush! What the hell happened?" She caught up to him wearing a mask of complete concern, not for her own eye, but for the boy inside her body. When he didn't answer, she placed a heavy hand on his shoulder. "What happened?" she demanded gently.

To try to avoid answering, Kyle just rolled his eyes, simultaneously rolling his shoulder out of her grasp. He glared. "You're stupid asshole boyfriend was harassing me. That's all." He made to walk away, not ready to explain himself to her, but she stopped him again with her hand, and he didn't have the heart to knock it away again.

"Did he hit you?!" She sounded half worried for her own body and half worried for Kyle.

"Well I threw the first punch," he explained calmly, knowing that her response would be explosive.

"Kyle!"

"What?! He said something about… having sex with you on Saturday night or something… and I just couldn't…" he trailed off, but Bebe didn't reply. Suddenly, that blinding rage that he'd felt earlier began to build up and cloud his vision. No matter how acceptable his behavior was, there was no excuse for compromising the honor of the girl who held his heart. "Well what do you want me to say, huh?! He was making a fool out of you!"

"Kyle…" Bebe began quietly, but she was cut off.

"Okay! I know! I hit him, which means I'm an asshole too! I get it! I got you all beaten up for no reason!"

"Kyle…" she tried again, but he was too angry to look at her let alone listen to her. If he had, he might've noticed that her eyes were shining and she was biting her lip.

"I just can't stand the way he talks about you _all the time_! And I _mean_ all the time! I hear it everywhere! He doesn't deserve you, Bebe, and – " His tirade was cut short when he felt a pair of lips cover his own.

It was a strange sensation, kissing himself, although it wasn't as unpleasant as he'd imagined. If he didn't know any better, he might've thought that he was kissing her lips rather than his. There was no tongue wrestling and no errant groping, but the message behind Bebe's kiss was clear enough: thank you. Thank you for standing up for me.

He pulled away. "Doesn't it bother you? The article, I mean."

"No." She sounded so sure of it that Kyle had to ask again. "I'm positive. And you know why? Because I'm not trying to blame myself for everything… and neither should you." What she said next made his whole body relax. "You're not alone in this, Kyle." She kissed him again lightly.

Kyle wasn't one to be rash. It was honestly the first time that he had gotten "physical" in any sort of skirmish, and it was also the one time that he didn't regret making such a spontaneous decision. It didn't matter that they weren't themselves… Not when he felt Bebe's lips against his own. For lack of a better word, as all eloquent tendencies escaped Kyle's mind since the point of contact, kissing Bebe was like… coming home. He didn't mean to sound as though he were quoting _Sleepless in Seattle_, but it was finally the first time in what felt like a lifetime that he wasn't left to deal with his life on his own.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Well… KyBe fluff. Kinda awkward, but what're you gonna do? I hope you guys liked this chapter. Chapter eight should be on its way soon. Oh, and for the record… I have nothing against Taylor Swift. It's just something that I thought Mr. Garrison might say, LoL.

**Lillyfan123 **You already know that I'm always eager to read what you have to say about my latest story or chapter. I'm so grateful for the encouragement, praise, and interest that you have to keep reading (despite my horrible tendency to leave long gaps between updates…). Thank you so much!

**Waste-o-tron **Thank you for pointing out so many positives! I was really skeptical about the effectiveness of this chapter as a… transition (I guess), but your review made me feel like I did my job as the author.

**xMiss Universe. **Thanks so much for the review! You know the ironic thing? I think I came upon your profile before you changed it (I recognized the shoe picture, LoL), and I remember you saying something about not really being a KyBe fan unless it was well written… So you can probably imagine how happy I felt when I saw that you read _and _enjoyed my story! Haha.

**Gariand **I'm so glad you enjoyed the P&P scene… that was honestly probably the easiest to relate to my own life, LoL. And thanks for the review!

**JVM-150 **I'm so grateful that you're continuing to read this. Thanks so much for your review!

**Just Stay HIV Positive** Thank you so much for your review! It really made me feel like I was doing my job as an author. Most importantly… I'm glad that the story gave you some laughs. xD

**XxLoveStanxX **As always, I love getting reviews form you. xD I'm so glad you're continuing to read_ and_ enjoy this story!

**Ceylon** I'm so glad you're still reading. Honestly, I thought about that too: why doesn't Cartman get it? I figured that Kyle is so used to him being right all the time that he really doesn't want to give him the satisfaction of being right… yet again. LoL… I'm not even sure if this makes sense, though. xD

**Caleb Jones **Thank you so much for reading, and I'm really glad you're enjoying the story! Sorry for taking such a long time to update!


	8. The Girl Code: Shopping

**Author's Note:** This was kinda a quick update, eh? I think more of the usual humor can be found in this chapter. I hope you all enjoy it!

**Disclaimer: **I wish I had my own animated series, but sadly I do not.

* * *

**Cartman Was Right**

**Chapter 8**

**The Girl Code: Shopping

* * *

**

"Stop giving me that look."

"And what look would that be?"

"You know… the one where you look like you're going to eat me," Kyle answered as he and Wendy made their way to her car after school let out. He was uneasy about being alone with her in the parking lot, for it looked like the only thing stopping her from devouring his limbs right then and there was the risk of getting blood on her skirt.

"I'm doing no such thing," she replied curtly, slightly miffed, though she ran her tongue over her lips as if itching to chew something.

"That's good. If you eat too much, it really will go straight to your thighs."

"Kyle!" she exclaimed in outrage. "That is _not_ something a guy should be saying to a girl!" He saw her adjust the back of her skirt out of the corner of his eye, and he couldn't help but laugh to himself.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Is my chest not prominent enough for you?" He used two hands underneath both of Bebe's ample breasts to cup them and make the cleavage more noticeable.

"Oh, stop it!" For the second time that day, Wendy used her hands to force Kyle to put his arms back to his sides. "You just like touching those!"

"Yeah… you're probably right."

The two of them piled into the old, blue Honda civic and, Wendy started the ignition with a rattle, turning on the heater as the engine sprung to life, but she didn't drive it out of the parking lot. She didn't even put it out of park. "Bebe looked happy in sixth period today," she commented, straightening her beret in the mirror.

Kyle, who was expecting some sort of beating, remained puzzled. "Why shouldn't she be?"

Wendy seemed to be chewing nervously on her tongue. "It's just… with that stupid article and everything, I expected her to be sobbing all day."

"She's a tough girl in a boy's body. I think she can handle it. Besides, I'd be called a pussy for the rest of my life if she _did_ cry."

"You want to know what I think?" Wendy asked, and though Kyle gave her a look that said he didn't really care that much, she told him anyway. "I think something happened between you two sometime between your fight in the cafeteria and sixth period."

"Nothing escapes you, does it?" Kyle raised his hand to giver her a sarcastic high five, but she didn't seem to notice. "And, for the record, that wasn't really a _fight_."

"Your eye is purple. I think that qualifies as a fight. But either way, I do want to know what happened." The statement sounded more like a threat than anything.

Kyle paused to consider. He _was_ in her car… _alone_… meaning that no one would be able to hear him scream. _Oh, come on. Grow a pair, _he told himself. "Have you noticed how I always end up retelling every single story about Bebe and me to either you or your boyfriend?"

"So?"

"Well, I'd just rather that some of this stuff stay between me and _Bebe_, and not me and _you_."

"Oh…" Wendy seemed to deflate a little. "Whatever happened… that's usually something Bebe and I would talk about with each other."

There were those Goddamn rules again! "I don't know your stupid 'Girl Code,' okay?!" Kyle blurted out suddenly.

"What on Earth are you talking about?"

"Er… nothing. Never mind. We, uh…" He had to pause to cough away his nerves. "We just kissed, is all."

The effect of those small words was incredible. Wendy let out a small scream and jumped in her seat, which nearly sent her rickety car off-balance. "ARE YOU SERIOUS!?" she shouted in his ear.

"If I knew you were gonna react that way, I wouldn't've told you!" Kyle had stuck a finger in either ear and was yelling at her just as loudly.

"I'm sorry!" she squeaked. The sudden difference in the decibel levels was truly astounding.

"It's… fine. Can we just go?" Kyle asked in exasperation, wanting desperately to just pick a dress and get it over with.

"Yeah, okay," Wendy agreed. She put her car in reverse, pulled out of the parking space, and headed off toward the mall. Every time her car sputtered, Kyle felt the need to brace himself for a sudden gas explosion. "I'm really… wow, Kyle. I don't know what to say. I'm happy for you!" She grinned at him.

"Watch the road, will ya?!" he exclaimed fearfully.

"Lo siento!" she exclaimed as she corrected her lane position while simultaneously avoiding a squirrel.

"'Lo siento'?" Kyle repeated incredulously.

"Give me a break. My last class was Spanish, okay?"

"Right…" Kyle answered. The car shook slightly as Wendy drove gingerly over a speed bump in the mall parking lot. With her tongue between her teeth in great concentration, she pulled into a space and parked her car triumphantly. "Is there a reason we're so far away from the building?" It was a legitimate question, considering that there were a least three empty rows of snow-filled spaces in front of them.

"I'm still very uncomfortable with parking!" Wendy insisted indignantly.

Kyle opened his door and peered out to find that her car wasn't even cleanly between the white lines. "Is that why you get to school an hour early every day?" She didn't answer. "You've already been driving for over a year…" he mentioned disbelievingly.

"Yeah, well, you know that stereotype about girls not being able to park?" Wendy pulled her key out of the ignition and stood up outside.

"I thought that was just for parallel parking," Kyle said, following suit and exiting the vehicle.

"No… it's _all_ parking."

"Why don't you ask Stan for help?"

The car locked with a beep. "Because that would mean he's better than me at something."

Kyle rolled his eyes and sarcastically slapped a hand to his forehead. "Oh, silly me. How could I forget? God forbid he knows how to park a car better than the great Wendy Testaburger!"

She clearly wasn't very keen on picking up on verbal irony either. "I know, right? C'mon. I think we should start at Macy's."

"Wow… you shop here so much that you know the owner by her first name? Will I like her?"

"Kyle… that's the name of the store."

"Shoot me down, why don't you?" he scoffed. "Let's just do this already." The two of them walked in through the automatic sliding doors, and immediately the harsh smell of alcohol and floral fragrances wafted over to them in a malodorous designer cloud. "What _is _that?" Kyle inquired nasally, having pinched his nose shut.

"Perfume," Wendy answered matter-of-factly, spritzing some on her wrist and rubbing her hands together. "Speaking of which, we should probably buy you some… You know, this could actually be really fun!" Without waiting for an answer, she grabbed the sleeve of his red cardigan and dragged through the rows of glass casing and angular bottles.

It was strange, really. Within several minutes, Kyle already smelled like "Tropical Travesty," "Diamond Dream," and others he couldn't remember but that undoubtedly used hideous alliteration in their titles as well. "How much longer do we have to do this?" he whined impatiently as Wendy sprayed his kneecap with perfume, as it was one of the few places on his body that was fragrance-free.

"We're going to do this until you find one you like!" she growled, snapping at a saleswoman who was offering her assistance.

With a roll of his eyes, Kyle pulled his knee up to his face and inhaled deeply. It smelled like a mixture of lavender and cherry ice cream. It made his head spin, but in a nice way. "I like this one," he stated.

"Are you sure you're not just saying that so we can get out of here?" Wendy raised a skeptical eyebrow.

"No… I really like it. What's it called?"

Wendy held up the pink bottle. "'Pearl,'" she read off the label. Kyle had difficulty in seeing the logic of naming something that smelled like fruit after a solid deposit of calcium carbonate. "And you know what? This is the perfume that Bebe usually wears anyway. That's… very curious." She smirked at him.

"Okay… not gonna lie; what you said sounded a little bit creepy." All the same, Bebe's face suddenly swam before him, and he vaguely remembered the scent of her scarf from several days back. "So that's what that was…" he mused to himself.

"Here." Wendy tossed him the box. "Now let's go look at dresses." The way she spoke told Kyle that she was positively itching to get him into something frilly. "This part of the store is always huge. How about you start on that end," she said, pointing to her right, "and I'll start on this end." She was gesturing in the completely opposite direction. "Then we'll meet in the middle with a bunch of dresses for you to try on."

_Whatever gets me out of here more quickly_, Kyle told himself. With a shrug, he made his way over to the far corner of the store. He reached into the first clearance basket beside him and yanked out a long, black dress with puffballs that were several different disgusting shades of yellow. He was wondering if women actually wore clothing like that when a sudden exclamation caused him to drop the hanger to the floor with a clatter.

"Oh, Jesus Christ!"

That voice was unpleasantly familiar, and, peering around the back of a size two clothing rack, Kyle was able to see the unsightly leather straps of Mr. Slave's usual attire and began to wonder why on Earth he would be in the junior's section scanning through a clothing rack full of endless floral prints. Kyle tried to duck out of sight before he could be recognized, but –

"Hello, Bebe! Fancy seeing _you_ here!" the Southern accent told Kyle that Herbert Garrison was right behind him, and he spun around as rigid as a board to be met with a faded lime green windbreaker.

"Hello, Mr. Garrison…" he began uneasily, noticing with a slight churn of his stomach that his teacher appeared to be wearing purple eye shadow and the slightest hint of rouge over his cheekbones.

"Look, Mr. Slave. Look who I found cavorting in the clearance racks." He beckoned over the hopeless homosexual, who lovingly brushed a stray lock of golden hair from Kyle's face; it was probably one of the most awkward situations he'd ever been in.

"Oh, you silly goose, what's a cute girl like you doing all the way over here in the clearance aisle?" he said through his lisp, batting his eyes enticingly. "Come one, hun, you're coming with us." He used a manicured hand to grab Kyle's forearm and all but dragged him to a more expensive section of the store, Mr. Garrison following closely behind and whistling "I Feel Pretty" through the gap in his teeth.

Mr. Slave stood on one tiptoed foot to bring down a yellow dress from one of the upper wall hangers. He held it to Bebe's front. "Hm…" he said skeptically, tilting his head to one side and rubbing his chin. "No…" he concluded definitively, eyeing the blond mop of hair on top of Kyle's head. "This won't do at all. Much too flashy." With that, he threw the dress onto Mr. Garrison, who promptly put in into an empty shopping cart.

"What about this one, Mr. Slave?" Kyle's teacher had selected a hot pink, knee-high dress that made Kyle feel like reliving his lunch all over the floor of the department store.

"No! Heavens no, Mr. Garrison! It needs to highlight her facial features!" He gave his lover a gentle tap on the wrist and took the dress away from him. With a twirl, he placed it lovingly in the reject pile.

"Excuse me… but, why are you two even here?" Kyle asked, trying his best to be polite. What was one supposed to say in that situation?

"Jesus, Bebe, are you retarded? Mr. Slave and I are chaperoning your dance on Saturday night."

Kyle had to grit his teeth to force the image of Mr. Slave and Mr. Garrison slow-dancing to "Lady in Red" out of his head. "Er… right."

"Here!" Mr. Slave suddenly exclaimed, emerging from a curtain of multi-colored ballroom wear. "This is just _gorgeous_, Mr. Garrison!" He brandished a light blue, knee-length dress with spaghetti straps and a small bow just under the bust.

Mr. Garrison let out a low whistle. "Hot damn, boys'll definitely be popping boners over you." He made his sex slave hold the dress to his front and twirl as a means to model it.

Kyle, however, couldn't help but feel extremely uncomfortable. It was already weird enough to think about wearing something other than swimming trunks that revealed his shoulders, but to picture himself catching the eye of other _males_ was just degrading.

"What's that look for, hun?" Mr. Slave asked with a giggle that made his Adam's apple bobble. "I am _not_ taking 'no' for an answer. This dress is so perfect for you that… Mr. Garrison and I are going to purchase it."

Kyle gestured helplessly to the other end of the store where Wendy was undoubtedly waiting impatiently for him. "Wait, I need to – "

" – try this on first? You're right. How could I have forgotten that?" Mr. Slave gave himself a light slap on the cheek, and Mr. Garrison gave him a love tap on his leather-clad thigh. "Oh, Jesus Christ!" The teacher's assistant blushed. "Save it for tonight, Mr. Garrison!"

Kyle frowned uncomfortably. It hadn't even occurred to him that his teacher and Mr. Slave were still intimate with each other. "Yeah…" he began awkwardly. "I think I've got it under control." He gave a little wave with the hand that was carrying the dress hanger. "Someone's meeting me so… thanks for all your help." He tried to turn around, but a manicured hand grabbed his shoulders.

"We still need to find you something sexy to wear under that dress, sweetie. For the good lovin' afterwards."

Kyle froze. "You know what? I think I'm good," he said, but despite all his protests, he was dragged to the lingerie section of the store, which seemed to be conveniently located right next to the wall with all the dresses. "No, no, no!" Kyle protested, trying and failing to dig his feet into the floor. "I… don't… _need_… this!" He felt like his arms were going to be pulled out of their sockets as he attempted to run backwards. Maybe he'd get Wendy to help him file a police report later.

The trio stopped right in front of a wall covered completely in lacy things of various designs and colors. "What do you think?" Mr. Slave asked Kyle with a giggle.

_Jesus, these guys are shameless…_

"Mr. Garrison, should we get her something to match her dress? Or something a little sexier?" Mr. Slave brandished a baby blue set of lingerie in one hand and a black… _something_ in the other.

Mr. Garrison seemed to be pondering his answer as Mr. Slave raised one and then the other in succession. "I kinda like the corset," he stated.

"I was thinking the same thing." With that, Mr. Slave flung the blue bra and underwear over his shoulder and thrusted the black pair at Kyle's chest. "That's going to look adorable!"

Kyle pulled it gingerly away from his body and observed it with a look of disgust. "How am I supposed to – "

"No need to thank us." Mr. Garrison waved his hand dismissively. "Now let's go buy this stuff for you." The three of them – only two of them willingly – walked to the cashier and made their purchase.

Fifteen minutes later, Kyle found himself standing alone outside of Macy's with a plastic bag containing a dress and something nightmarish-looking thing that he was somehow supposed to figure out how to wear.

"Kyle!" He whipped around to find Wendy nearly jogging toward him. "Where's your phone? I called you like ten times!"

"It's in your car! These pants are too tight for me to fit anything in the pockets," he explained once she caught up to him.

"That's why girls carry a – what's this?" she asked, pointing to the bag he was carrying. "Did… did you buy a dress _without_ me?" She actually sounded quite hurt as she reached inside to pull it out. "Actually," she said breathlessly. "This is… it's perfect for you! I'm impressed!"

"Yeah, well – "

"Why do you have _this_?" To Kyle's horror, she was brandishing his underwear for everyone to see.

"Put it back!" he hissed, shaking the shopping bag impatiently.

"Why'd you _buy_ this?" she asked again, turning it around by the hanger.

"It wasn't me!" Kyle finally said. "I ran into our teacher and his stupid… Anyway, I tried to get away, but they insisted on buying this crap for me!"

Wendy held up the lingerie to Kyle's front and nodding approvingly. "I gotta say… those guys have really good taste.

--

Stan only lived half a block away, so Kyle put on his coat and mittens and walked over carrying the Macy's bag from earlier that day.

"Dude!" Stan exclaimed once he opened the door. "Where were you after school today?"

"Your girlfriend ambushed me as soon as the bell rang."

"Yeah, she tends to do that." A dreamy look came over the football player's face. "Isn't she great?"

"Yeah…" Kyle reluctantly agreed, feeling a bit like a "Squidward." "Stan, I need to talk to you. You know, a little man to man conversation."

The other boy looked surprised to see him standing there in the dark. "'Man to man'? You're a girl, dude."

Kyle frowned. "Fine, man to _girl_ then. I know this might be kinda annoying, but I need help with Bebe again." He invited himself inside and removed his jacket, shaking snow onto the wooden floor.

"Oh, wait," Stan answered with a snort of laughter, closing the door behind his friend. "I completely forgot to tell you about this, but speaking of Bebe… you know what she did today in PE?"

"Do I want to?"

"Dude, she shaved your legs last night!"

It took a moment for Kyle to realize exactly what Stan was talking about. "Wait… she _what_?!" he asked indignantly.

"You were totally hairless in the locker room! As smooth as a baby's butt! That's like your masculinity going right down the drain there, buddy!" For some reason, Stan seemed to be taking great pleasure in Kyle's discomfort.

The Jew rolled his green eyes in exasperation. "Perfect. Did anyone else notice?"

"Yeah, most people. And, Jesus Christ, when she bent over the bench in your underwear, I thought Cartman was gonna ass rape you right in front of everyone." Kyle groaned in dismay. "What is it?" Stan asked casually.

"Okay," he said, lowering his voice slightly so as not to attract the attention of the rest of the house. "I'm going to tell you something, but you have to swear you won't tell _anyone_."

"Ok, done."

Kyle remained a bit skeptical. Given that the gossip was juicy enough, Stan occasionally had a bad habit of letting it slip and gradually make its way along the gossip chain. "And I mean _no one_ can know."

"Yeah, okay."

"Not Wendy, not Bebe, not even your mom and – "

"Kyle!"

"Okay…" Kyle took a deep breath to prepare himself for the worst. "Cartman's in love with me."

There was tense silence for about a minute until it was broken by a great guffaw of laughter.

Kyle threw his bag angrily onto the floor. "Stop laughing! It isn't funny!"

No dice. Stan continued to laugh so hard that he was forced to double over clutching his sides. "Dude, you're fucking with me. You are _so_ fucking with me!"

Kyle used frantic hand gestures to try to make his friend lower his voice while still replying at the same volume. "I'm being completely serious!"

"The hell you are!"

"I am!"

"How would you even know that anyway? It's not like he would just – "

"Tell me? Dude… he _did_ tell me," the Jew hissed angrily.

"He _told_ you? Are you sure?" Stan's question revealed that he was still uncertain.

"Yes, dude! He said something along these lines." Kyle scrunched up his face to give himself the fake double chin that everyone gets after they smell sewage. "'Stay away from my fuckin' Jew, bitch! Get your own!'"

Stan was momentarily rendered speechless. "Holy shit, dude! He _said_ that?"

"Oh, I don't know… something like that. I can't remember it word for word. I try not to think about it, but then I have all these damn dreams about – "

"Cartman? You have sex dreams about _Cartman_?!"

"They're not sex dreams!" Kyle snapped. "They're like… freaky dreams. Like… imagine _The Ring_, only ten times creepier!"

Stan gave a dramatic shudder and looked over his shoulder as if making sure that they were alone. "That movie still gives me nightmares sometimes."

"Exactly!"

"Wait… this means that that fucking… retarded poll thingy isn't just some bull put in there by the editors, right?"

"Unfortunately… And, you know what? Call it 'woman's intuition,' but I think he's planning something completely stupid for this dance thing… And that's another thing! Why the hell am I even going anyway?!" Kyle rambled, more to himself than to Stan, as he paced back and forth across the hallway.

"I thought it was because Bebe asked you to," Stan reasoned, putting a hand on his friend's shoulder to still his movements.

"Bebe… that's right…"

"Well, what about her now?" Stan asked once the excitement about the situation with Cartman had finally died down.

"I kissed her," Kyle stated simply, wondering why he was even making such a big deal about it in the first place. It was such a girly thing to dwell on. "Or maybe she kissed me… I don't know…"

Stan's mouth was in the shape of an "O," and he was blinking furiously. "So what do you make of it?"

"I don't know!" Kyle let out a groan and ran several fingers through the golden strands on his head. "I was gonna ask you about that. I have no idea how I'm supposed to interpret these things."

"Well… how'd she do it?"

He wanted a description now? "Oh, uh…" Kyle began awkwardly. "She sorta put her face close to mine, and – "

"No, no, no. I mean, what kind of kiss was it?"

"What kind?"

"Were you all over each other, like French kissing, or was it one those 'I'm not really interested in you right now, but the attention is appreciated' kisses?"

"Oh, God… they have names?!" he asked, horrified.

"You are one hopeless blond, little Jew. Of course they don't have names, dumb ass. It's just the way that guys are supposed to gauge a woman's reaction."

"What do you mean?"

"Jesus Christ… haven't you kissed a girl before?"

"Well, yeah, but I don't make a habit out of it."

"Just remember…" Stan explained, suddenly professorial, "in a relationship, the only opinion that seems to matter is the woman's. If a relationship is dominated by the man, it's doomed to fail."

"So… inversely, a relationship dominated by the woman is destined to succeed!"

"No," Stan countered firmly. "That's just how it always ends up. Think about it. Your dad is controlled by your mom, my dad is usually controlled by my mom… and so forth."

"Oh…"

"You remember that when you and Bebe are getting it on a year from now."

"Why do you sound so jealous? Didn't you and Wendy – "

"You mean after you guys left yesterday? Pfft, no. She put her figurative chastity pants back on and made me finish the rest of that stupid movie with her… _Pride and Prejudice_."

Kyle made a gagging motion by pointing down his throat. "Shit… I couldn't even make it through the first fifteen minutes when I tried to watch it…"

"I know! But every single girl I know seems to just love that Mr. Darcy guy, and I can't ever figure out why…" He trailed off, and Kyle got the sudden image of Stan dressed in a tailcoat and top hat. "All _that_ aside, how would you describe your kiss with Bebe?"

"Oh… I don't know…" Suddenly all the emotions that he'd felt when his lips were touching hers disappeared back into the little box in his chest cavity.

"Okay, let's start simpler then. Who initiated it?"

"She did." That was something he distinctly remembered… being cut-off in midsentence by her mouth.

"That's a start. It means she notices you at least."

"Shouldn't she? I mean, she's told me that she likes me in that way…" Stan's help was getting more useless by the minute.

"That's not the point. Girls aren't ever that easy to read. Sometimes they're all over you, and other times they're playing hard to get and waiting for you to make the first move. I mean, _your _case is probably special given your current… _situation_ and all."

"She didn't seem… disgusted by it, even if she was technically kissing her own body… That has to mean something, right? I'm so confused… how am I supposed to be her and myself at the same time?"

"Yeah, I dunno, dude," Stan replied, beginning to sound exasperated. "I wouldn't worry about it too much. Just… try to go with the flow."

Kyle rolled his eyes. "That is such man advice, Stan! I've been trying! And look where it's gotten me! I'm a teenage girl whose soul has been consumed by the mediocrity of high school drama!"

"Wow… that wasn't gay at all," Stan gave him a sarcastic nod of approval.

"_And_ that's another thing! Everyone thinks I'm some sorta queermo! What now?" he asked when he saw his best friend flinch a little bit.

"There were a few people who thought you were gay _before_ you were a girl."

"Are you kidding me?!"

"Well, you're the only guy who doesn't talk about girls all the time."

"Oh, well, I'm sorry!" His voice cracked a little bit and he could have sworn that he felt his lip quiver ever so slightly. "Please forgive me for actually thinking with my brain one in a while! You know what? I'm leaving!" He left the Marsh residence in a huff, but before Stan could close the door, he forced his way back inside. "I'm staying."

"What now?" Stan asked impatiently. "I wanna go eat."

"I need your opinion on something… but I don't get 'gay' comments for this, all right?"

"That's fine."

"I…" Kyle coughed, nudging the shopping bag with his foot. "I wanted a guy's honest opinion on the dress I got." He purposely left the underwear at home to avoid any sort of homosexual quips.

Stan tried and failed to disguise a laugh as a cough. "Okay," he promised as Kyle pulled his gown out of the bag. Stan gave it a once-over with his eyes. "Alaka-_day_um! You're gonna be hot!"

"Thanks." Kyle nodded with a grin and neatly put his dress away. "I'll see you tomorrow, then." The two exchanged waves, and Kyle was once again halfway through the door when he remembered something. "'Alaka-dayum'?" he asked incredulously.

Stan frowned. "No? You don't like it?"

"I can't say that I do."

"Oh… I just thought I'd try it out. No? I dunno, I thought it was kinda – No?"

"You keep working on that." Kyle finally bid his friend good night and walked home, feeling as though he'd actually succeeded in being a girl for once.

* * *

**Author's Note:** I hope you enjoyed that. I'm thinking that this story will only be another two or three chapters, depending on how I decide to organize everything… That's right, the end is in sight. I hope you all stay tuned until the end!

If you haven't read my profile, I'm leaving on a trip to Colorado on Sunday, and then I'll be in New York for most of July. I can guarantee that I'll be writing, but I really don't think I'll get a chance to update until I get back home. So… this might be the last chapter you get for a while.

**dnny by **Um, thank you for your unorthodox review. I'm glad you're enjoying the story so far, and I sincerely hope you continue to read until the end. I look forward to hearing your full rating once the story is done.

**Tabbikatt** I'm so glad it managed to engage you like that! It always makes me feel wonderful when people get so into reading it like that! Thanks so much for your review. Hopefully you liked this chapter too, and I hope you continue to follow this story!

**Lillyfan123** I hope that you found the shopping trip to be funny. xD I tried to make it a little bit like… "wtf?" Anyway, I'm really glad you're continuing to like this. I still continue to look forward to your reviews after every update; they always manage to encourage me to keep writing!

**ReadingReallyLate** Thank you so much for reviewing! I think I remember getting a review from you for an earlier chapter, and I'm so glad that you came back to keep reading this! And about the high school thing… I'm so glad that you think it seems like high school, since that's the feel I was going for. I hope you continue to read this in the future!


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